


Through The Glassy Lens - Twisted Wonderland

by iram0123



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24794077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iram0123/pseuds/iram0123
Summary: "Why are you taking pictures all the time?""Cause it calms me down, that's why!"We are all different. That's what makes the world unique and fun. But it's on another level to be a magicless individual in a world filled with magic. This is what a child would wish for - an escape from reality. For a very young adult, it's contradicting.Mia feels like she can't breathe in here.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 81





	1. Hold your breath

_Rattle, rattle, rattle!_

We all take waking up in our beds for granted. Most of us do. When we wake up, no matter what part of the world we are in, even in the darkest or the sunniest of places, we all know what it feels like waking up in our beds… It is when we do not wake up there that we feel confused and then worried and scared.

I feel like I am floating in a void. It is dark and I do not feel the comfortable soft weight of mattress underneath my back.

_Rattle, rattle!_

The strange noise makes me flinch. I keep on waking and going back to the half-asleep state. Finally, though, the sharp sound of something rattling becomes too much.

Instinctively, as I try opening my eyes, my hands hovering and trying to feel something in the dark. The space around me is limited. I try shuffling to sides and end up touching solid surfaces. The claustrophobic environment makes my breath hitch.

_W-where…?_

“Crap! People will come soon! I gotta wear a uniform fast…”

The voice startles me. But in this dark space, it passes by like a mere hallucination. My heartbeat quickens, when it continues talking though.

There is something moving near my legs.

“Ngggh! This lid is too heavy,” it whines.

This time, I definitely feel something other me moving in this tiny space and stop breathing. Cold sweat runs down my back. I do not dare to move a muscle.

“If it has come to this… gonna use my last resort! Ngg… there!”

First, there is only a tiny spark. But like with lighting a campfire, it spreads out of nowhere. Bright blue flames surround the place, heat fills the air and touches my skin. I scream my lungs out, covering my face that feels most of it and squeezing my eyes tightly shut. The sleeves are unusually large, veiling the entire length of my facial features. But they do not provide protection on how the rest of my body feels the heat through the fabric.

As soon as the fire appears there is a loud ‘bang’ and light pours in. It momentarily blinds me, and I smell smoke. For a moment, I fear of dying and seeing the other end of a tunnel and my tightly shut eyes close even more tightly.

The fading sensation of flames fades, leaving only the smell of smoke after it. I am frozen, though. I do not have the courage to move and look, even though there is suddenly more air than before. It fills my shuddering lungs and my arms shake.

“Well, well, then, back to the task – Gyaaah!”

The sudden scream made by the strangely high-pitched noise is aggravating to the ears. The sound of it makes me nearly jump out of my skin and I end up opening my eyes. I lower my hands cautiously, but my vision is momentarily blurry.

_This is…_ _not my room_ is the first stupid thought that enters my blank mind. Of course, this place isn’t my room. It is a far cry from being my house, too. It is filled with dark colors ranging from black to dark, almost royal, purple. Green lanterns line up the pillars keeping up the high ceiling, but their eerie glow is nothing compared to the sight of over a dozen floating coffins. It is like looking at a cemetery literally above the ground.

A single solid black mirror rests rooted to the stone pedestal. The silvery metal decorating the frames reach the top as snake-like figures. The glass reflects nothing, not even whatever dim light is in this place. Even the windows around the place show nothing of the outside world, only dark.

“You! Why are you awake already!?” The voice snaps me back and I take in a shuddering breath.

My eyes follow the voice down, near the edges of my feet to see a small creature looking up at me with panic that mirrors my own. It is standing much like a human, but its rodent-like appearance is far from it being one. The end of its tail is split into three pointy ends. There are literally what looks like blue flames poking out of its triangle ears.

_D-did that thing j-just talk!?_

“Gyaah!” I scream, scrambling back against whatever it is I am leaning against. “A-a rat!”

The thing’s expression – an animal is actually making an expression at me, oh my god – turns miffed. It frowns, looking greatly irritated. “Who are you calling a rat!?”

“It talks!” I continue screaming, raising my foot in horror. “Stay back! Back I say! Shoo!”

The creature points its front paw at me. “For your information, I am the Great Grim! I am not a rat!”

“Stay away! Stay away! Stay away!” I continue crying out, absolutely adamant in keeping the thing at bay.

“Grrr! You, human, shut up and gimme those clothes!”

_W-what!?_ Out of reflex, I cover my chest, but being conscious of my clothes makes me realize how odd they feel. Confused and alarmed, I look down to see that I am wearing unfamiliar robes and that brings another string of panic into my head. The robe is long and dark, golden lines covering it in twisting and straight patterns. A single purple fabric wrapped around the middle keeps it all together with a gold clasp – the belt is suddenly much more suffocating.

I touch the fabric in confusion, not minding the overgrown rat anymore. These clothes feel soft and fine, definitely not something I would have in my closet. There is a hood that covers my head and the fabric on the other side is a beautiful purple with golden crests flowing all over it.

The world is spinning. I look like a cosplayer.

“These…” I mutter and then look at the room, following the strange rat and then at my clothes again. The gears in my head start moving slowly. I am laying in a coffin, wear these strange garbs – I shudder at the mere thought of being in a place where people are buried in.

The rat grows impatient. "Hurry up! Otherwise, I will roast ya!”

The sight of those blue flames is still too vivid in my head when he threatens. “You are the one… who made that fire?”

He huffs. “Are you listening to – “

“Alright,” I sigh, interrupting him and not caring much about the results.

I look back down at the robes and reach down to the waist. The golden clasp on the belt opens with a flick of my fingers and with an easy shrug the top of the robes falls off. _These are so not worthy of getting me burned._

“Fnga!?” The rat – or Grim, as he calls himself – blinks in puzzlement. He clearly didn’t expect to get his will through so easily.

I ignore him again, stepping out of the ring that the robes have created. Underneath the first coat, there is another one that is longer. It is equally pitch black but lacks purple and the shoulders are covered in fine golden lines. They still make me feel overdressed and am more than happy to start opening the buttons. When that is off and, on the ground, too, all that is left are black pants, boots with similar patterns to the coats, and a sleeveless black shirt.

I frown, realizing that the shirt is actually my pajama that I usually sleep with. There is no mistaking that slightly worn out hem. Still, it fits perfectly well with what is left on me. Now that my arms are exposed to the air I shiver and slightly regret taking the coats off. The room is unusually chilly.

“There,” I say and inspect the rest of the room quietly. "These boots and pants won't fit you, so try making the best of those cloaks.”

“… to me?”

I blink, tearing my eyes off the high ceiling. “Huh? Did you say something?”

He blinks. It is the first time that I notice how startlingly blue and wide the irises around the pupils are. “You’re giving them to me?”

"Yes?" The answer comes out more like a question. “What? You don’t want them?”

Grim snaps out whatever stupor he has been in and lunges at the bundle on the ground. “These are mine now! You can’t take ‘em anymore, got it!?”

“Right, right,” I nod absentmindedly and look around the place. The sight of the coffins still makes me uneasy. When I look where I stepped out from, I realize that it is no better. It is another coffin, standing on its own like it knew it won’t be used anymore.

While Grim starts putting on the clothes – I seriously have no idea how he will manage that – I notice a door on the side and head for it. Anything to get out of this creepy room and the huge rat with an ability to spit fire. _This place is totally crazy._

For a second, my hand flinches from merely touching the handle of the door. It feels cold and I wonder if even crazier sight waits for me on the other side. However, curiosity soon gets the best of me and I end up stepping out.

“I’m gonna be a student soon!” Grim cackles and it is enough for me to literally throw myself to the other space.

My feet halt and the door closes behind me.

It is a hallway. The color scheme is similar to the room I was just in, but there are no flying coffins. _Thank god for that._ Grave faces are, however, staring down at me from many paintings aligning the walls. Despite appearing grey and weary, the art pieces seem to have been taken care of. There is not a speck of dust or stain anywhere in sight.

Heart almost leaping out of my chest, I curiously start walking down the place. This hallway seems a lot friendlier than the room I woke up in. Unlike the place that resembles a graveyard, these paintings make me think of an art museum. It is not as creepy, nor is the air as chilly anymore. Gradually, I start to relax. And unable to resist I start wishing I had my camera with me.

_I wish this is real._ These images would then stay with me forever then. While I think of this and continue walking, I almost completely miss how for a moment these hundredths pairs of painted eyes seem to follow my every move. But when I look, they are back to normal.

“Can you guys move?” I end up asking, right before I am about to open another door at the end of the hallway.

No one, or nothing, answers back.

_Figures._

…

“Woah.”

There are no better words to describe the sight.

I thought that the room looked scary enough, but now that I am standing outside it is making it hard to breathe. If the room was a graveyard, then this castle-like structure is a haunted house. It has tall dark towers that look almost like needles trying to poke holes to the sky. Many windows line up the stone walls, and barely clear evening sky is gradually starting to fill itself with stars.

A few windows are filled with light. Those lights tell me something, though. This place is not abandoned, even if I am currently standing in the middle of what appears like a courtyard all alone.

An eerie wind blows, and I shiver. Goosebumps are covering my arms and bare shoulders, every small individual hair is standing up. I inhale the cool air, trying to keep myself warm by continuing my walk. However, I have to stop by a well at the center of the yard to marvel the entire place.

“What a strange dream,” I say to the air, knowing that no one is here to hear me… at least to my knowledge.

I shiver again and hug myself. It isn't the first time that I think a dream could be real, but… _So realistic._ I shudder some more and look down at the dark well I have discovered. It is completely dark at the bottom, but a small droplet of drops down and I can hear it hit the water after a few seconds.

There is no reason for me to dream of this kind of place, is what I keep on repeating in my head. I cross the yard, wanting to explore more despite the chill settling into my bones. Many people have always told me that I have a wild imagination, but even I don’t think it is enough to create a scenario like this. It is almost enough to make me impressed with myself.

This entire dream is resting on the borderline of being amazing and creepy at the same time.

Another gust of wind hits me in the face and this time I actually end up sneezing. _C-c-c-cold!_ Despite my fear of rats, mice, and all other small creatures that can crawl into the bed at night, I am tempted to march back to the coffin-room and take back my coats from Grim. There were two layers there and the last one will not even fit him. Not that any of my clothes would fit that creature.

My curiosity is gone with this last gush of air and I end up making one-eighty degree turn back to where I came from. What do rats even need clothes for? They have fur. I am the one at a disadvantage.

_Hasn’t this dream been dragging too long?_

The edges of my glasses have been pressing down on the bridge of my nose for too long now. I lift them up and rub that spot where the skin has turned red and has two distinct marks. The skin feels tender, it feels warm, but that’s exactly the scary part of this all. I am not bothered about the cold or how it is probably time to get new glasses, but how… real everything feels.

My spine turns into a straight arrow. The tips of my fingers that have been feeling the coldness of autumn become popsicles – I can literally not feel them anymore. It startles me. The back of my throat clogs up, I have stopped breathing altogether.

This may as well be healthy denial, but… this place… could be re –

_No, this **is** a dream. _

A very strange and real-like dream that makes me want to slap myself awake.

Suddenly, there is noise. Until this point, I have been only hearing the wind and creaking of the wood inside this castle, but now there is definitely something else echoing in the wind.

Footsteps and talking.

For some reason, I start slowly backing away and the hairs on my body stand up for another reason than cold. It has been so quiet until now that sound is unsettling. Especially if it is moving and especially if it has a consciousness.

I immediately become anxious and duck behind a tree.

“I can’t believe this! Never, not once, have we had an incident like – oh, cease with your struggling already!”

“Fnga! Let me go! I’m gonna be a student here!”

“There is no way that a monster could become a student. Be grateful I have not turned you into a stew, for I am so kind.”

There is that one recognizable voice that makes me press myself firmly against the tree. I do not like the sound of it – the strange blue-eyed rat, Grim, is near. However, the second voice is unfamiliar and my gut drops, much like how that rock did in the well.

The voices grow closer, letting it be known that they are approaching the yard. I stop breathing and hold my breath to the point where all the blood starts rushing into my head. I can’t move anymore, my limbs refuse to. Even when the wind keeps on sending chills all over my body, I barely start trembling and shuddering. If possible, I melt into the tree and become a part of it – I wish for it to swallow me whole.

_W-why am I hiding?_

“Goodness, just what kind of troubled child would let their own familiar cause a scene like that?”

“I’m no one’s freakin’ familiar!”

“Yes, yes, that is what the rebellious one always says.”

_Nothing to be afraid of. I-it’s just an overgrown rat and… something else. This is just a dream._ I squeeze my eyes shut, praying that what I am about to see won’t be anything equally startling to Grim.

“Let me go! I’m going back to prove that stinky mirror that I can be a student here!”

A sigh. “Such a foul-mouthed thing. I only fear what the new student is like.”

Tentatively, I uncurl my clenched fists when the footsteps and the voices are dangerously close. I can’t ignore how clammy my hands are anymore, or the way my heartbeat is drumming in my ears. There is an urge to stay hidden no matter what and another one to just get out to the open.

_It’s all just a dream._

A shadow approaches the hiding place.

I step out and everything halts.

The person before me also becomes as still as a rock. Strange round and yellow eyes round beneath the peculiar mask that is like a crow’s face. Everything about this person is peculiar, though. From the alarmingly old-fashioned dark hat to the feather-covered dark blue coat covering his shoulders. Most disturbing features are the gloves that have golden pointy edges, like claws, and a rope that is wrapped around…

"What are you looking at!?" The creature, Grim, hisses, and twists helplessly.

I flinch and look back up at the strange person. He also doesn’t know how to get the words out and I find myself noticing how pale the skin of his lower face appears. The parted lips have an alarming bluish tint to them. Dark curly hair falls on the side with waves and barely cover the ears that thin out at the ends to form the pointy shape.

My mind has grown blank, but there is this one mantra that keeps on repeating inside my head. _This is a dream, a dream. Nothing but a dream._

Finally, I notice something strange.

The man is not saying anything. He is staring at me, with his mouth open. Strange choking noises are coming out of his throat, but no coherent sentence is formed. In his free hand, he is clenching a familiar purplish and dark fabric – the coats I gave Grim and that obviously did not fit him.

“U-um, hello?” I try speaking, but this only seems to make the man appear more hazard. He raises a shaky finger towards me, and I shrink back from the pointed edge in panic. _W-was this perhaps a mistake?_

“Y-you are… oh dear," he covers his mouth, the yellow orbs turning into pins. He starts muttering, although his voice is still loud enough for me to hear bits and pieces. “This won’t do… simply won’t do at all. How could this… a mistake? No… not possible… unless…”

“Excuse me?” I try again, certainly not trying to touch him to gain the attention. I eye the golden claws in his hands warily. This is not exactly how I imagined this would go.

Grim seems to grow more impatient, though. “Oi! Quit your mumbling and let me go! You, human! Do something!"

I raise an eyebrow. _Is he talking to me?_ When our eyes meet, it is the first time that I notice that not everything about him is the same as a little while ago in that coffin room. Instead of a strange and a bit worn-out bow he wore, there is a red and black collar – I think it is a collar – around his neck. I am as confused about it as I am about how he is tied up with what looks like a whip. _What the heck is this?_

The voice of the cat’s scratchy voice must have some sort of awakening effect because the man visibly seems to snap out of his thoughts. He clears his throat and gains my attention again.

Now, he is in my space. “That’s right! Neglecting your duties to keep your familiar in check is simply unacceptable! He caused havoc at the entrance ceremony and created absolute chaos! Take responsibility for him.”

I take a step back, placing a hand on the tree trunk for balance and for a spare hiding place. “W-what do you – “

Grim is practically showed to my face. “Train your familiar properly.”

“A familiar? But he – “

“More importantly,” the man straightens up and looks down at me in scrutiny. “There has obviously been a mistake,” he says and turns his mannerism into an apologetic one. “I apologize, but I must ask you to leave this college at once.”

I am a bit startled how rude he is – he has interrupted me more than once. But his bizarre appearance makes that irritation shrivel and I only stare at him with a furrowed brow. "Wait, this is a college?”

Those eerie yellow eyes seem to blink. "Are you still delirious from transportation? That might explain a few things – yes, this is Night Raven College and I am its Headmaster, Dire Crowley.”

_Raven._

It is my turn to give the man a look over. From the strange glows to the equally strange mask and all those feathers… the outfit and the name make sense now. However, it still does not make this dream more sensible. The castle is a college – it raises more questions than answers. This man appears to be the furthest thing from a headmaster and not to mention the talking cat who is still struggling with that whip around him.

_This is madness._

This is the craziest dream I have ever had.

“Okaaaay,” I look around awkwardly, the cat still being held out to me. Hesitantly, I reach out and the whip loosens itself from Grim who ends up falling into my arms. We both give out noises of surprise, but he wastes no time in trying to struggle out of my hold. “H-hey! Calm down!”

“The Great Grim is no one’s familiar! Let me go!” He hisses and ends up biting down on something – my thumb.

“Ow!” I cry out and gladly release him.

Not bothered slightest by being dropped a few feet, the creature does not waste a second to rise up and try and bolt. He does not get very far though. The dark whip is wrapped around him in seconds and I have to jump back from the loud noise it makes.

The expression of pain on Grim’s face is enough to tell me how it feels to be targeted by such a thing. It is enough for me to ignore the pain on my thumb.

“O-ow,” he manages out, ears flat against his head. “T-that hurts.”

“My goodness, you really have no ways of controlling this little thing,” Dire sighs, exasperated.

“Who are you calling li – Mngfh!”

“Be quiet,” the man says simply, the whip covering the blue-eyed creature’s mouth much more efficiently than my hand had. “Now, as I was saying – “

_My hand._

The world fades, as I look down at the injured limb. From where Grim bit, the spot where his teeth sunk in, there are punctures. Imagine how you first pierce a fabric while sewing and draw the needle back. There is a small hole, but unlike with fabric blood starts seeping slowly out of those small teeth punctures. They rise in small dots and then spread.

“Miss? Miss, are you listening to me?” Dire snipes. I am clearly not paying attention to him anymore.

The pain has been there this whole time along with the cold wind, but only now does the chill seep through my skin and to the bones. I feel faint like my entire body is starting to vaporize itself into thin air. Much like how the leaves of the tree beside me, I am trembling.

_Th-this isn’t real,_ the shaky voice in my skull whispers. The voice is desperately denying everything – I am desperate. The tips of my fingers have become numb to the point a knife could cut them and I would not feel a thing. What I do feel is the wrenching sensation of my intestines turning around, how acid burns the beginning of my esophagus, and gradually rises up.

My grandpa used to scold me for being too sensitive, but I could have not agreed with him more. When I was smaller, I used to duck my head down at group gatherings and prefer corners to stand at the center of people. When I was especially nervous or rattled, I would flinch at the smallest of sounds coming from a nearby bush. It was both annoying and something I had to accept. There were more cases of me crying in the middle of a class than there are fingers on a single hand.

That is why, when tears threaten to overflow from my eyes, I recall those times. It makes me feel ashamed of crying and it usually is enough to make me stop and gather myself back up.

However, now I am not sure whether I am crying already. Too many emotions – fear, disbelief, confusion, hollowness – just spread and mix together, spilling over whatever is holding them all together.

All I can do or manage at this point – is finally look up at the man with my clammy pale face. His eyes widen from seeing how the color quickly changes on my skin.

I take one last good look over at him: the mask, the feathery jacket over his shoulders, the golden decorative claws at the tips of his fingers, and lastly Grim wrapped in the bizarre whip. Then, the entire area around us is slowly scanned by me. I take in the details of stone paths, their pattern, and texture, how the entire structure of the castle swallows up any light there might be available in the evening…

My neck might as well dislocate itself from my head when I snap my eyes back to the strange man.

“No,” is all I get out as words from my mouth. The rest is puke that falls all over his fancy shoes.

I have never heard a grown man screech so loud that the roof tiles rattle.

…

It is strangely relieving to have the coats I gave up back covering my bare arms and shoulders. They make me feel warmer than I would be without them. Unfortunately, they can’t stop the cold sweat gliding against my back or how my fingers shake like they have been dipped in an ice bath. The water I have been offered has not even washed away the bitter and burning taste from my mouth.

To sum this all up, I feel horrible.

The whiteness of the room I am in does not suit the rest of the ‘college’. It has the most common appearance of a nurse’s office and I am sitting on one of the chalk-white beds. It is soft, but I wish it would be softer so it could swallow me whole.

Slowly, my eyes shift to the birdman. It is strange, for some time now, Dire has done nothing else but stood near the bed, his arms crossed and occasional mumbling passing his painted lips. From now and then, those strange – ominous – yellow eyes look up at my immobile form, squinting, before shaking his head.

I can’t take the awkward silence anymore, though, and finally look up from the glass of water I know I won’t be finishing. “I’m, again, t-terribly sorry for…”

The silent meaning points out to the bird-like man’s new pair of shoes. The old pair has been discarded somewhere, probably thrown out or burnt perhaps. Nonetheless, the past five minutes have been more than uncomfortable.

Dire jolts out of his thoughts at the sound of my voice. He looks just as startled as I am by the reaction he gives. “A-ah, it’s quite alright. Because I’m kind, I shall forgive you.”

The way he phrases it throws me back. I recall him saying something similar outside, but…

“Are you feeling better?”

Before I can answer, Grim’s complaints through the whip still wrapped around him bring my attention to the struggling creature that has been raised on the table. The whip must be made out of sturdy material because no matter how he seems to be trying to sink his teeth into it the thing won't just snap into pieces. Not that comparing a whip to how he bit through my skin is the same thing.

Honestly, I feel quite bad for him and I would probably ask for his release if there wasn’t a small band-aid on my finger right now.

“Yes, thank you,” I answer, tearing my eyes away from Grim and look back at the Headmaster. Immediately, though, I have an urge to throw up again.

I wish that I am hallucinating. If I walk up to him and touch him it will only break me down. If I remain ignorant, though…

Unconsciously, my hands clench into fists and I flinch from how underneath the band-aid the wound aches. Smudges of blood cover the edges of the plaster. A sinking feeling settles into my stomach. I hide my shaking hands underneath the long sleeves.

_No, there is no denying this situation._

It takes a while for me to gather my thoughts together from the scattering mess they have become. “Can you tell me where we are, again? You told me this is… a college?”

The word sounds unfamiliar on my tongue. The last thing that could be used to describe this place is a space for education. And judging by the clothes Mr. Crowley wears… the thought of what they might teach here is slightly frightening.

He nods and takes a seat on a nearby chair, completely ignoring tied up Grim next to him. “Yes. This is a college where individuals with great magical abilities – “

My eyes widen a fraction. _W-wait, wh-what?_

“ – gather together. It is a prestigious environment of learning for young _boys_ ,” he finishes with a heavy emphasis on the last word, pinning a particularly narrow-eyed look on me.

_Oh._

Two different pieces of information have been thrown at me. I am completely paralyzed by the first one – magic does not exist. This is what I deny as strongly as my existence here.

My hands are shaking violently again, and I have to put the glass of water to the side. Another loud muffled complaint from Grim makes me jump this time. It makes sense that he can talk, I have no idea how I was not freaking so much about it a second ago. Maybe I thought – no, I was praying – for him to be some sort of science experiment… that spews fire. I look at him, _actually_ , take a moment to look at him properly. Those large eyes of his, tail that splits into three pointy ends like a devil’s weapon…

His abnormal gaze locks on me and noise between a growl and another muffled yell are heard through the restraints. I shiver, looking away far more quickly than would be natural. None of this makes sense and my heart beats so loud that I might as well die from a cardiac arrest.

I feel utterly helpless. These robes are suddenly coiling themselves around me and making it impossible to breathe. Still, my body does a contradicting movement by clenching them even closer. The way Dire had stared at me outside in the yard has a reason now – the sleeveless shirt made my gender obvious.

“O-oh,” I wheeze out, feeling my lungs being squeezed by an invisible force.

Dire nods. “Oh, indeed. A mishap like this has never been made in the entire history of this school. Having a female student would make matters… complicated, to say the least. I deeply regret to inform that we will have you return to your home and – “

Without thinking I stand up. “Yes! Please do!”

His eyes narrow into small ping pong balls, which is probably his version of looking surprised. Even the strange feline who has been doing nothing but complaining freezes and both of them look at me like I spurted a second head.

I stiffen, the hopeful expression on my face falling into a look of shame. “I-I mean… Y-yes, I would like to go home.”

And hopefully wake up in my bed, knowing that all of this was just a dream.

The crow-masked man needs only a few seconds to collect himself, luckily, and he stands up while reaching for Grim. “I’m happy that you understand miss…”

The back of my throat feels tight and my voice comes out as strained. “Mia Miller.”

“Then, Miss Miller,” he says and thrusts the tangling creature in front of my face for the second time today. “I trust you will be able to handle him now?”

“Wha – no, no, no, no!” I shake my head vigorously, backing away until the back of my feet hit the edge of the bed. “I’m _not_ touching that thing again!”

If looks could kill, Grim could bury me ten feet below the ground this instance. Dire frowns, retreating him back before speaking. “This won’t do. He is your familiar, right? This confusion wouldn’t have taken so long to be solved if you hadn’t left him behind.”

It is again with this. I feel frustrated and end up glaring up at his disapproving face. “He is not my familiar!”

“That’s precisely why. If you are going to bring him along, you should – eh?" The man's entire body freezes from my words as if I slapped him just now. "H-he is not your familiar?"

_I can’t believe this man._ All kinds of complaints about how he would not let me finish my sentences earlier nearly fly out of my mouth. However, knowing that I will need his help to get out of here, survival instinct makes me bite down on my tongue. Instead, I nod and cover my injured hand protectively. “N-no, he is not. He was there when I woke up and demanded that I would give him these clothes, or he would – “

The words just stop coming out of my throat. I feel stupid, scared of how differently things could have gone if I had not given up the dark cloak around my shoulders. I had only done that because I thought all of this to be a dream and was able to be calm, but things are not like that anymore. The teeth marks on my hand are proof of how badly I could have gotten hurt. Grim is no ordinary animal. He threatened to burn me and would have definitely done so.

When the color leaves from my face, it is enough for Dire to understand what had transpired and he glares at the tied-up rat. “So, you are the cause. Excuse me for a moment, Miss Miller. I will have to remove this monster from the school's premises, so you will, unfortunately, have to wait here. As soon as that is done, we can go ahead and return you back to your home.”

Still, a bit shook, I can only nod numbly. There is small relief from knowing that Grim will be gone, though. At the mention of him leaving, he starts trashing even more violently than before. The strange collar around his neck rattles.

Obvious to my stiff expression and the angry monster, Dire smiles. “Wonderful. I will be back soon. I recommend you to stay in this room until I return."

This time, I manage to say something. “Yes, thank you.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me. It would be too cruel not to help you, considering the ordeal you have gone through. Am I not a model educator?”

Again, he says things that make no sense. He does not need to add ‘cruel’ and ‘model educator’ into his sentences. The last question is what really throws me off a bit. It makes me think he is expecting to be praised.

And that is just what I do. If I have to be kept in his good graces before I get home, that is precisely what I am going to do.

“Yes,” I start, tongue twisting awkwardly from saying things I would not in normal circumstances. “Y-you are very kind.”

_…That sounds so wrong._

The compliment has the desired effect, though. He chuckles again and exits the room with a flutter of his coat. I am on the edge the entire time, listening with strained ears Grim’s faint screams and the sound of footsteps fading away in the hallway. The walls are made of thick stone, but they do not serve their purpose very well.

As soon as there is no further noise, I sit down heavily on the bed again. I can’t even… my legs literally feel like they are made out of jelly. Again, I feel cold, as if I am still standing outside. I inhale deeply, the inside air somewhat warming my icy lungs. _It’s fine now._ I wrap my arms around myself, shivering from all that has happened so far. _I can go home, soon…_

The silence is suffocating, though. The longer I sit still more thoughts fill my head. Dire didn’t say how long taking Grim out of the school grounds would take, so I could be sitting alone in here for a while. But that is just it – I am all alone with my thoughts.

What if something goes wrong? What if Dire is planning on throwing me into a pit or locking me up somewhere? He said this was a school of magic, but… I can’t use any. I am not… whatever he thinks I am. So, how would he react if he found out I am a completely magicless person? _N-no, don’t think about it, don’t think!_

I try to think of something else entirely – a happy memory perhaps – but I end up going back to wondering about this place. I pinch myself multiple times, hoping to wake up. It is all in vain, though, and my skin turns an angry shade of red where the damage has been done. This is not a nightmare.

Desperate and hopeful, I slap myself, the sound is sharp and quick. It hurts, my cheeks throbs and blood rushes to it. I have my eyes tightly closed from sharp stinging, but when they open nothing changes.

_“If you get lost, stay calm and don’t move,”_ is what my parents told me whenever we went to places where there was a danger of being separated. I have no idea why such a piece of useless advice would pop into my head right now, though. Even if I stay in place, my parents will not magically appear and take me home. I've work to do in the morning, and they will definitely wonder where I'm if I can't transport myself back there and –

My frantic mind halts.

_Wait… was I at home? No, I was going to… no._

Home is what comes to my mind naturally, but… I can’t recall if I really was there or not. One second, I think I fell asleep on the couch, the next I am talking with a friend in the middle of a street and finally I am seeing flashes of other familiar locations. The problem remains, though: I can’t remember the last place I was at before waking up here.

The situation has taken a completely new turn. My heart nearly stops.

Something is terribly wrong with my memory. I start sweating from completely different reasons other than sheer terror on waking up in an unfamiliar world. I have to breathe to keep a clear head, but no air fills my chest anymore.

I just sit there, paralyzed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, confused and scared by the dark hole that has been scotched into my memories.

Finally, I take off my glasses and rub the bridge of my nose tiredly out of habit.

…

The hands of a clock hanging above the door of the nurse’s office strike twenty minutes from the moment Dire and Grim left. Twenty agonizingly slow and eerily quiet minutes have been moving forward while I have gone from sitting to lying on the white bed.

It is when to worry about being left here alone for longer than would be safe starts to settle in that sounds travel through the thick walls and the wooden door. Immediately, I sit up, the bed creaks from the movement. Being in silence for this long means that any noise can cause a reaction, so at first, I wonder if it is something I should even be bothered about. But when it does not stop my heartbeat quickens.

It must be Mr. Crowley coming back from throwing Grim out, I think eagerly and quickly shuffle up from the bed. I straighten the beautiful robe, having already become comfortable with it, and am about to step closer to the door, when I notice that there is something strange going on.

There are footsteps, but also voices speaking.

_Oh, no._

Fight or flight reaction begins pumping adrenaline into my veins.

I look around with dread imprinted on my face, immediately understanding that things can go downhill soon. I can’t be certain that it is Crowley bringing along someone else that he has confined in with the situation at hand, but I can be certain about my desire to suddenly hide.

“…er… where… be.”

“How… know… here?”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Muffled or not, I do not recognize the bird-like man’s voice, it does not exist. These are strangers who are dangerously close to being just behind that one wooden door.

This is an all-boys college, I am a girl. Naturally, the knowledge makes me feel more than a bit intimidated. Considering how this place’s headmaster reacted, I should probably feel this way. He did say that a girl being here would be ‘complicated’, whatever that means. I do not want to think deeper from that.

I am thankful this outfit has a hood and I pull it on, pushing my hair inside of it in haste before hiding behind a medicine cabinet. If the door is opened and someone walks in, it will be impossible for them to see me from this angle… I hope I could avoid that, though.

“Headmaster? Are you here?”

_No, no, no, no!_

Shakily, I reach out to cover my mouth. I am afraid that the smallest of noises will come tumbling out otherwise. The sound of the door creaking open is like needles are pricking my ears.

“Why on earth would he be here?”

I bite down on my tongue hastily, squeezing my eyes shut and hoping to disappear from the face of the earth. Whoever opened the door – someone with a youthful and clear voice – he certainly is not alone. My eardrums start ringing from how blood gathers up to my head – dizziness surrounds me from holding my breath.

A chuckle. “I’m not really sure.”

"This is no time to idle around," the person reprimands and sighs in what sounds like an annoyance. "Honestly, how long could it take to catch one runaway student?”

My shoulders are close to jolting when he says that. By 'runaway student', I can only conclude he is talking about me. That is what Mr. Crowley also insinuated at the beginning, too. A thought of merely coming out and figuring out this situation does come to mind, but it is wiped clean when the same person continues.

“Breaking a rule on their first day… I must say, as soon as the culprit for releasing that monster _cat_ is found, I shall have a word with them,” he continues in a calm manner, but… the way his voice dips down forms something much more sinister.

I am reminded once again of moments from horror movies. There is not a single part of me anymore that wants to come out of this hiding place anymore, and I realize slowly that it is because of Grim. Sure, when I think of it, he does have cat-like features and I can’t seem to think of any other monster. _He is not mine!_ Just like Dire, there seems to be a great misunderstanding of what happened between Grim and me. From what I have gathered so far, they really think that I made him wear those clothes… and whatever he did afterward to gain such a reaction is beyond me.

Whatever is the case, I am not looking forward to having a word with anyone who sounds more than ready to slaughter me. These are college boys, right? Then… why am I breaking in a cold sweat from the mere sound of this one voice?

Whoever it is, he sounds angry. The bitter kind that strikes you like a snake when you at least expect it.

“A cat? I thought it was a raccoon.”

If I was not trying to hide and be terrified of my predicament, I would be amused by the boy’s confused voice. I originally thought that Grim is a rat, but… I shiver again, once more aware of how he could have torched me alive from that comment. The small movement causes me to further curl into the dark cloak.

“Whatever it was, hopefully, Headmaster won't let its owner keep it in the school grounds.”

“Ahaha! But don’t you think this newbie will be fun?” The second boy asks lightheartedly, contradicting to his companion’s mood.

“That’s an interesting thought, considering it was their familiar who burned your clothes earlier – hm?” The boy halts in his words, causing a visible pause in the air.

For some reason, this silence is more terrifying than the moment when the door opened. The ends of my fingers dig into the skin of my face unconsciously, it is purely out of sheer reaction to the shift in the mood. I don’t like this silence.

The one with much cheerful voice – like sunlight, warm and fuzzy – lets out a confused noise. "What's wrong, Riddle?"

“Someone was here.”

The sound of my heartbeat has reached its loudest point. I am shaking like back in the yard – it feels as if cold wind is still brushing my arms and neck. Sweat has gathered underneath my glasses and I fear they might soon start sliding down against the bridge of my nose. It is certain now – I let out a squeak and I will be found. I don't know what to do if that happens. Even with this hood, I know for certain that passing as a member of the opposite gender will be impossible.

_Mr. Crowley… hurry up!_

Footsteps tap further into the room, instead of heading out. This is the point that I could faint in, disappear, and be completely obvious to the world.

“What makes you say that?”

“Don’t you see?” The sharp question is like glass dragging itself across a chalkboard. “The bed has been used.”

My eyes fly wide open. I can see every individual stain, that I have ignored until now, on my glasses. I curse myself. Because of my stupidity, they now have something to suspect. In my haste to hide, I forgot to get rid of the evidence.

“It’s still a bit warm… there is also a glass of water,” the boy continues listing the things that he finds out of place.

I grow colder by the second.

“Do you think Headmaster was here to take a break?”

Another silence follows, but then it shatters when footstep sounds begin again. This time… they head deeper into the room and closer where I’m hiding…


	2. Through the haunted house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the last chapter, I forgot to give credit to the wonderful people who have taken their time to translate the Twisted Wonderland game. On these first two chapters I've looked through Kiku Naren and Shel_BB YouTube users' videos. There are also many others out there who I'll bless for the time and effort they put into this wonderful game.
> 
> I would also like to thank Iidok for being the first person to give a comment on this story. :)

It’s a miracle that the cabinet hasn’t started shaking together with me. My back remains firmly pressed against the structure’s side, the cold seeping to my skin through the fabric of the dark robes. They once felt comfortable, but now the collar is simply suffocating.

_Please, no…_

The footsteps get closer. The blood stops flowing into my head and paleness takes a bluish hue. I’m scared –

”Rosenheart, Al-Asim, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the ceremony?”

This is it. I’m ready to die from an aneurysm. Dire’s voice cuts through the tense atmosphere – intense, for me – halting whoever was getting too close for comfort to my hiding spot. Faint breath flows out of my mouth like a fist has been punched into my gut. Blood circulation returns to normal and my vision turns fuzzy from the blood that suddenly rushes back to my head. A second or few later and I would have been discovered.

_Too close._

“Ah! Headmaster! We found you!” A joyful shout.

“No, I think it’s the other way around,” Dire says and then clears his throat. “Now, as I was saying, what about the ceremony?”

“Headmaster, it’s over,” the voice cold as an icy breeze sharply replies politely. “We waited for you, but eventually the entrance ceremony had to end. The first years have already been sent to their respective dorms… Speaking of first years, have you found the missing student?”

A pause. “The missing – ah, a-ahahaha!” The older man starts laughing, albeit suspiciously. It isn’t a sound a serious adult should be making if they are calm or composed. "That matter has been taken care of! Don't worry, don't worry!"

“Huh? You found him?” The voice with sunnier disposition asks with curious excitement. “Which dorm did they get assorted to? Scarabia?”

“T-they,” Mr. Crowley clears his voice for the second time. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding, let’s leave it at that. The matter has been solved.”

 _Smooth,_ I think sarcastically while still shaking like a leaf. He gave this explanation so fast and missing details that I’m scared for him. Shouldn’t this be an obvious kind of lie?

“A misunderstanding?”

“Yes, yes, now off the two of you go. It’s already past the curfew. I’ll explain the details at our next meeting.”

They leave the room the door closes firmly, and faint voices disappear to the hallway. As soon as deafening silence fills my ears, the strength that I barely even have leaves from my legs. This sensation of not being able to stand is worse than what I experience after exams or interviews – in a blink, I am sitting on the ground.

“Oh, my god,” I puff and clutch my chest.

I can't get up for what feels like over ten minutes. Even when I stand up again my knees buckle and I stumble to the bed to sit down. I've to process what just happened and that there is a good reason why cold sweat keeps on sliding down my back and arms.

Meeting Grim and nearly getting burned by him had been bad enough. Mr. Crowley did say that this is a place to study magic, so wouldn’t that mean that whoever was here could have the potential of sending me flying through the window? _Scary! This place is too scary!_

The door opens again without a warning. “Miss Mil – “

“Gyah!” I jump, hairs on the back of my neck standing up. However, once seeing that it is merely the bird-like man, with his eyes wide open and staring at me, I relax. “S-sorry. I thought you were those students coming back… or something.”

“Yes,” he nods and looks behind his shoulder as if to make sure there really isn’t anyone else there. “That could have become quite a situation earlier. You acted wisely by choosing to hide. Those two were actually heads of dorms and them finding out about this mishap would have been problematic.”

I nod mutely, more worried about what kind of spells they would have used to hex me rather than their social standing in this place.

“Now, come along,” Dire beckons me with the wave of his clawed hand. His long feathered coat flutters as he moves to the side to gestures in the hallway.

You don’t take threats and dangers seriously in a dream – precisely why I was acting like a suicidal idiot when I first woke up in the coffin. But now that I am more aware of what’s real and not, the hallways seem to have grown taller and wider. The paintings I thought were beautiful are now disfigured shapes and colors that follow me with their hollow eyes.

We climb up more stairs than should be necessary in a building – or in this case a castle. Or maybe it’s simply my panic side taking over. Just like how I thought in my naivety that the “dream” would never end, these stairs have no end.

Mr. Crowley has also not uttered a word. I could honestly forget he is even there were it not for the tapping of his staff and shoes against the shiny floors. It’s eerie – he's strange, mildly put – so I do not feel safe almost in any way. The only thing keeping me going is the promise of being able to return home, but at the same time, I am dubious.

He could be taking me to a dungeon for all I know.

“Here we are,” the man finally speaks, unintentionally making me turn into a statue. With ease, he opens the double doors leading to a very familiar room.

Biting cold settles into my bones from the sight of floating coffins and an ominous mirror in the middle of a large space. Our footsteps become louder against the marble floor.

The doors close. A sinkhole appears in the place of my stomach.

Almost immediately as the entire room is closed, the surface of the dark mirror flickers with what appears like a spark of bright green light. A face appears in the middle of flames, hollow and appearing like a mask void of any eyes. Bottomless gaze stares forward, neither at me or Dire, but through us.

_What the hell!?_

I take a step back, choking on nothing.

I know that face – it sends jolts of fear and nostalgia down my spine. The monotone face reflected in a strange oval mirror is too familiar, like I have seen it before. After a few seconds of staring pieces finally, fall to their places.

_Snow White._

The world spins and pure disbelief numbs my body. A character – if you could call it even that – from a cartoon is staring at me. It is surreal to the point it of being ridiculous dream once again and I reach out for my cheeks, pinching both of them. My threshold for pain is not the highest and that is why I quickly let go and succumb to dizziness.

This all has to be stuff made up in my head.

“Now, step inside the door.”

Dire is smiling sweetly, holding the door of the coffin open for me to step in. His reaction makes me feel like I have run into an invisible wall and can’t go back.

 _He wants me to… go in there?_ This is like the beginning of a very bad joke, a continuation of a nightmare.

“No need to worry,” he says, sensing my distress. “The Mirror of Darkness will take you straight to your hometown.”

The name dries my tongue quite literally. My throat feels parched and I glance once more at the oval-shaped object in the middle of the room. The face has not disappeared, tongues of fire barely touching it in the reflection. It does not react to Headmaster's words, but it is clear what the mirror is being implemented.

No one should trust a mirror named like this one has been. It sends red lights into my vision and my feet remain stuck where I stand. But…

 _Do I have a choice here?_ An option of running away could –

“Miss Miller?”

The neurons in my head shut down. The door behind me is closed and the man is holding a 'magical' whip at his waist telling me to step into something that dead people are buried with. Being in this situation, seeing these strange things makes me question whether this is actually the reality despite the painful truth of claw marks on my hand.

But, if this is really just a nightmare like I originally thought…

From sheer nervousness and fear – my hands are shaking – I end up in a few seconds inside the coffin. I don’t recall the steps I took to end up in it, nor how long it actually took for me to walk over here.

Again, there are no evident signs that Dire can sense her mute unease as he starts to slowly close the lid. “That’s it. Picture your hometown as vividly as you can in your mind.”

Inside the coffin, it's pitch black. I can’t see the pattern of the wood no matter how close it’s to my face. The idea that this is a coffin I’m close in makes me only think of a scenario where I will be buried alive. I can’t breathe, the air grows warmer. Claustrophobic can be added to my growing list of fears.

Still, I do as Mr. Crowley said. I imagine the shapes and colors of my apartment, trying desperately to recall any small detail there is to it. From dents in furniture to the exact pattern of cheap flower curtains in my kitchen, how I left my hoodies scattered on a random chair next to my bed, and the slippers that are always gathering dust underneath the couch.

Other places I imagine include the small block where my job is. The slightly cramped space and how each framed photo is placed on the walls for the customers to look at. The smell of old wood and coffee. How the car road twists and turns towards the park where the smell of freshly cut grass can’t hide the stench of cars.

“Mirror of Darkness, guide this being back to the place where they belong!” Dire’s voice invades through the coffin’s walls.

I close my eyes, holding my breath in anticipation…

But nothing happens. No shift in the air, no blinding lights or noises. Just silence.

Dire clears his throat. “Let’s try one more time. Mirror of Darkness! Lead this being to – “

“There is no place.”

My mind turns blank from the monotonous voice that cuts through the stilled air. I can imagine that voice leaving from the lips of the strange face in the mirror.

“Huh?” The sound of confusion leaving the bird-like man’s lips is so faint that it’s barely audible.

"The place where this being should belong in does not exist in this world. It does not exist."

“Excuse me?”

The incredulous tone in Mr. Crowley's tone passes by my ears. The entire world is luckily dark because I’m sure that otherwise, I would be seeing black spots in my vision… and how everything seems to tilt to the side.

_W-what did he say?_

Pure ice replaces the layer of skin wrapped around my body.

In a millisecond, the inside of the coffin turns suffocating. The walls are crushing me, closing further in. And without thinking I push on the coffin’s door – almost so hard to let it fly off its hinges – and jump out. The ominous light of the room burns my eyes and they immediately hover around to land on the hollow face in the mirror.

There are no eyes, but once again it feels like those two empty holes are staring right through me. It is like a pressure that squeezes the air out of the lungs at a painfully slow pace.

Mr. Crowley’s sudden loud cry causes me to flinch and take a step away from the man who appears to express his distress more obviously compared to me. “My goodness! Today has been a parade of unbelievable things! Miss Miller, from which country you said you were from?”

I stare at him as if he is ready to sink those golden claws into my throat. “I-I never… I’m from Chicago.”

The deafening silence makes my knees buckle.

…

For whatever reason, they are both sitting in a library… if you could call it that. The ceiling around the building was high enough, but now in here, it is practically touching the sky. The endless row and piles of bookshelves and floors twisting above continue until they are so high up that shadows cover them up.

I do not dare to lift my head from the position between my hands holding it. One glance has been enough to make me feel dizzy and made me sit down on the nearby chair. Still, it does little to stop my limbs from trembling. This place feels colder than the outside air.

Dire is oblivious to the heaviness weighing down on this situation. His sharp movements and wrist flicks from turning pages in dusty old books are typical mannerisms of a frazzled teacher. As soon as he is done with one book, he let’s go of it and the object starts levitating in the air – I nearly choked on my own spit when I first saw it happen.

“Just as I thought,” he finally speaks up instead of mumbling and closes yet another book. “It’s not here. None of these books mention the place you come from – no maps, historical records… nothing.”

He sounds lost as if we have hit an invisible wall. My hands tighten into fists, the fabric wrinkling badly under the harsh tugging. The best way this emotion bubbling in my chest could be described is when you remember something being in a certain place, but when you come to search it, it isn’t there.

Those creepy yellow eyes dart down on me. “Did you really come from this place? You aren’t _lying_ to me, are you?”

If there was not a combination of terror and disbelief in my system – and the fact of how wobbly my legs are – I would stand up in anger. But instead, I meet his gaze fearfully and shake my head, not trusting my voice before looking back down at my feet.

I don’t even want to be here.

The man purses his lips, holding his chin. “It could be quite possible… that you were summoned here from another world.”

He says it so easily. The lump at the back of my throat merely grows and I squeeze my eyes shut. _I know._ I have already figured it out, is what I silently say inside my head. But because I thought I would be able to go home, I have been mostly pushing it to the back of the mind. However, now that it has been confirmed how that won’t be the case… my eyes start stinging.

“Miss Miller, are you listening?”

“Uh-huh,” I mumble out and cover my face, the stream of information physically adding weight to me. I have no idea how he can just stand there so calmly

“Do you perhaps have some form of identification?”

I frown and shake my head. “No.”

“I see. Well, you don’t really seem to have anything on you.”

_Then why did you ask?_

“This is troubling,” he states and begins pacing back and forth. “If this is truly the case and you are from another world… I can’t have a young lady stay in a college filled with boys… hmm… ah! How about we enroll you in this school?"

“H-huh?” Incredulous, I raise my eyes up. “But… I need to go home.”

There is no way he’s serious.

"Yes, yes, but at this point, we don't have the means to do that," he explains, once again in a calm manner, but there is a chiding sound to his tone. Like he’s talking to a stubborn child. “So, I suggest that you will be given a residence to stay as a student and – “

“I can’t use magic,” I let out from rising panic, thinking how horribly wrong this all could go if the topic isn’t brought up.

The dark top hat on Dire’s head appears to tilt as his mouth opens. The eyes covering behind the mask of his blink, demeanor shifting from confidence to bewilderment. The expression on his face is pretty close to the one I wore when I met Grim and my stomach flips over. Exposing this so suddenly may not be my best move.

He hasn’t done anything harmful to me, yet. The only signs of violence or close to it were when he held Grim back with the whip. His mannerism is quirky and strange, so those could be why paranoia is constantly gripping my head. I’ve no idea what he could do next, what could happen to me next. Telling him that I have a disadvantage of not being magical puts me in a very vulnerable position. It’s like walking willingly into a room with the person who hates you the most and locking the door. The person with you has a butcher knife.

I’m stiff and hold my breath. By this point the feeling of cold sweat all over my body is insufferable and a hateful reminder just how scared I am.

“You can’t use magic?” The bird-like man parrots, but then shakes his head and starts laughing slightly. “How amusing. Luckily for you, I’m not the kind of teacher to scold a person for joking like that, for I'm truly kind."

My shoulders flinch between dropping down and tensing back up. “I’m not joking.”

Dire’s weak laugher halts as soon as I say those words. My lower lip trembles when my limbs couldn’t look any more like shuddering branches of a tree.

“Oh,” is the only thing he let’s out, before covering his mouth and resuming to pacing.

This time around, I keep my eyes on him. The constant fluttering of his ridiculously long dark cape and the tapping of his shoes against the smooth surface of the floor. The reflection shows mirror images of both of us upside down. Mr. Crowley’s is the one moving while mine remains still.

With so much absurdity around me from waking up in a coffin, being attacked by a speaking monster, and interrogated by this peculiar man who accepts the concept of another world and a magicless being like a breeze, I want to cry. These are emotions of helplessness of being in a situation that you have absolute nonexistent control over. I’ve no knowledge of magic nor any recollection of anything occurring before literally appearing in this building out of thin air – what can I even do at this point?

Remaining calm is what anyone would offer as a piece of advice. That’s precisely why I’m biting my tongue, trying to hurriedly gather my thoughts that range from throwing myself off a tower and crumbling into a crying mess in the middle of this ginormous library. Dire can afford to remain calm. He’s still in a place he considers familiar and safe.

“Ah!” He suddenly cries out and I numbly watch him turn to me with a sickly-sweet smile. “Since I can't merely kick a poor child out to the streets without a guardian, money or a roof over their head – “

I stiffen, eyes widening. Every word out of his mouth sounds like a threat. It has been disguised beneath the layers of sweet smiles and tones.

“ – I suggest a compromise since I'm a benevolent educator. There’s an old dorm that has not been used for a long while. Miss Miller, if you’d like, it can become your temporary residence until we can find a way to send you back to your world.”

Now I definitely know there is something dark wrapping and twisting in that mind of his behind that smiling face. He has literally just laid out my two options – go out to the unfamiliar and cold world and die as a beggar or stay here. Neither of the two sounds tempting. This entire building creeps me out, but it also promises a chance of returning home.

So, naturally, it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for me to pick up the best alternative. “Yes, I would like that. T-thank you, Mr. Crowley… Y-you are very _kind_.”

Again, I’ve said something that makes me entirely uncomfortable. Still, the pleased expression I get in return tells me it had to be done.

…

The outside air is as biting as I recall. It may have only dropped further in temperature during the period I was inside. The robes around me are large, but they barely do anything to keep the warmth inside – wind literally pierces through the fabric if that’s possible.

But what causes me to halt is not the cold but the sight of several huge statues lining up across the entrance and exit of the college grounds. Like the mirror in that dark room, these figures hit me with nostalgia from childhood stories. The witch queen from that very old cartoon telling a story of the ‘fairest of them all’ is here together with the rugged lion who stands proudly as the one who cast aside the true air of the pride. Besides these two, there are also so many others, but I end up looking away and crushing the images in my head.

_Am I going crazy?_

With my shoulders hunched and feet stumbling down the road that turns urban and less well taken care of, I follow Dire without pausing again. He keeps his back to me, not glancing back as if knowing I am there.

The academic grounds start to change the longer we walk. The towering buildings and trimmed bushes and trees, cut grass, all turn to what can only be described as forgotten grounds. The road twists and turns like a snake instead of being straight and narrow stone path. It is filled with dirt and small pebbles that you can trip and fall from. Roots of trees sticking randomly out of the ground are here and there, molding the road.

Was it always this dark?

I get my answer when both of us halt. Yes, it was always dark in here, but there were more lights to create an illusion of an evening. Here, there are only a few small lampposts behind a crooked metal gate up the stony path upwards to a hill where a house stands.

“It is a bit old, but has taste, do you not think so?” Mr. Crowley asks pleasantly while gazing up at the dorm.

When you have a gut feeling, you should follow it. I knew that there was something wrong with his suggestion earlier, but now I only see that I have volunteered to spend my time in a haunted house. The trees are bare of leaves and their branches are crooked and hang limply in the wind. Few of the dark windows have been nailed shut with wood, but few that remain open appear to have cracks and pieces missing.

Somehow, I can imagine ghouls crawling on the house’s walls.

My mouth runs dry. “Yes.”

Like the trees, I feel like wilting away.

Dire nods happily. “Right, right ~. Please, come inside.”

With no other choice – I’ve dug the hole and now have no ladder out – I follow him up to the front door. The wooden thing creaks loudly when the man merely has to twist the handle and it opens.

 _Inhale,_ is what I think to calm my racing heart, but immediately regret it. The second the smell of bitter rotting wood and thick covers of dust enters my nostrils I recoil and cough.

“The place requires some maintenance, but it will keep you safe from the elements,” the man says while walking at the center what appears to have been a lounge area at one point. “I’ll go back to research, so you are free to do things around the house. However, I strongly suggest you won’t go wandering around the campus! Am I understood?”

_Some maintenance, he says._

The furniture is turned, broken, or barely standing. Piles of white dust seem to glow like snow in sunlight from the dozen lights that magically turned on the second the door was opened. The dust falls like powder from surfaces at every step on wooden planks and I end up standing like a stick in fear of the ceiling collapsing.

“Yes, sir,” I say once I turn back towards masked man. Upon further thinking, I offer a tight smile that I want to appear genuine. “Thank you, again. You’re truly very kind.”

He bows, which I don’t see necessary to do, before sweeping towards the door. “Well, then. Good evening, Miss Miller.”

The wooden door closes, shaking the very foundation. The fall of dust from the upper floor’s railing is not a surprise, but I panic when what seems like pieces of wood fall on top of my head and I shake the dirt off in a hurry. _Ugh. Nasty._

Now, left alone, I don’t know what else to do but stand dumbly and look around myself again. Being by my lonesome in such a rundown and hollow place reminds me only why I hate living by myself.

Knowing that just by standing around nothing would change – I won’t wake up from a dream or drug-induced coma – the next best option would be to find a place to rest. The first step towards flimsy stairs across the lounge is the hardest. The wood creaking is aggravating and alarming at the same time.

But the worst sound comes when there is suddenly an ominous rumble in the air and slowly but surely pitter-patter noise fills the still air. It has started to rain, and my gut tightens from discomfort.

Something cold lands on top of my head and this time I know it is neither dust nor small specks of wood. When I look up the ceiling is filled with dozen holes to the night sky.

“Motherfu – “

…

It’s amazing what a speck of panic and desperation can do to someone. Gone are the fear of ghosts, spirits, and ghouls haunting this place and instead I am literally running around trying to find something to prevent water from hitting the ground and making everything worse. I’ve grabbed every pot and pan I could find in a nearby room I discovered to be a kitchen, one that clearly hasn’t been used in a long time.

My efforts, however, do very little in stopping the water from dripping down the walls. There are dark trails where water is leaking down the surface and pools down to the wooden floor. _This place definitely has mold in it._

I shudder for what feels like the hundredth time, my face flush red from anxiety and having to make sure I won’t drown in here. There are already a couple of puddles I have stepped on and each one has further soaked my shoes and socks. The last time something like this happened was back when I was a snotty-nosed child and went out into the rain to play thinking it was 'fun'.

There is no place for me to sit if I want to keep myself from soaking the clothes. The longer I keep on standing underneath a spot where the rainwater doesn’t come down from, the more stress builds up.

I don’t want to be here, but there’s literally nowhere else to go. I can’t go back to the campus after being told not to go wonder around, not that I would prefer walking out in this weather in the middle of the night. I’m afraid to go upstairs to find that there is not a single _dry_ room where I can spend the night at and most of all…

Something warm that isn’t rainwater drips down my cheek. I reach out, hands shaking from the cold, and wipe off the tear. It doesn’t do much when more starts flowing out.

The worst part about all of this is that I feel completely abandoned. There’s no one in this place – in this world – that I know and trust them fully.

_I hate this._

“Aw. Don’t cry.”

“It’s no fun when they cry.”

A sob literally freezes in my throat – I choke. It’s suddenly much colder than when standing underneath the rain and I look up. My eyes are raw and red, but even through the blurriness, I see three white shapes that contrast against the dark color scheme.

Everything freezes. I can’t see the small drops of water falling, nor the eerie shadows of the rundown house. Three pairs of eyes, that nearly melt against equally snow-white faces, blink.

“Kyaaaaah!" In a second, a terrifying scream rips out of my lungs, startling the three figures who flinch at the volume.

“Hiihiihiii!” The three creatures cackle, watching as I bolt off towards the other end of the house while they block the front door.

_G-ghosts!_

I make sharp turns, not minding the water on the floor, the one falling on my face nor how the floor planks creak and are close to snapping in half. I run towards the place where I hope to be another exit but end up into a hallway with one window at the end and the rest of the walls filled with doors.

“Where are you going?” A voice asks literally next to my ear.

I scream again and come face-to-face with one of the ghosts. This one has his cheeks sunken in, looking more like a skeleton than a floating phantom. He startles me to the point of backing away so far away that the corner of a hallway hits me on the back of the head. I see starts and clutch helplessly onto an old drawer.

“Hiihiiihiii! It sure has been a while since anyone was in ‘ere,” the ghost muses and watches me sway and clutch my head. “Won’t you stay and play with us?”

“Stay forever!” Another ghost cheers and comes through the floor right by my feet.

I scream again, startled and face turning equally as white as their bodies.

“We’ve been looking for new ghost comrades,” a third one appears out of thin air and grins down at me. “ How ‘bout you?”

Immediately, I shake my head franticly and start running again towards the place I left. If these ghosts are here that could mean the front door is wide open again. The ground is slippery, though, and I nearly trip at every small turn. _Ghosts, ghosts, why the hell was I right about ghosts!?_

This is really like a scene from a horror movie. This is an old abandoned house with three entities that chase a living person to her doom. Throughout the years I have not watched many ghost movies with a good reason for being afraid of them, but I keep on seeing my corpse and end credits following soon after.

Terror makes me pick up the speed and in a few seconds, the lounge is in the view. _Almost there –_

Either panic has seized my eyesight or I’m just that blind, but when my feet get caught on something, I go down splashing against the small puddles on the floor and can’t stop cursing my stupidity. My fall scatters pots and pans that I placed to keep some part of the ground dry and now I’ve become soaked to the bone.

“Fngha! Oi, you! Watch where you’re going!”

For the second time in less than five minutes, I freeze and shoot my eyes towards the end of my feet. At the same time, bright blue eyes look up at me with anger in them, devious tail flickering sharply from left to right.

My mouth falls open and for a moment I forget how the water sinks through the clothes. “G-g-grim!?”

He sniffs and stands up on his back paws with the front ones crossed in front of his chest. “It’s the Great Grim to you, human!”

The arrogant tone is infuriating. The cold water is like ice and now it is all over me because he for some reason stood in my way. However, the idea of yelling at him comes and goes within a snap of a finger and I am soon trying to get up again.

As if knowing I’m back at the real matter at hand, the ghosts once more come through the walls and grin down. “More new ghost buddies!”

"No, no, no, nope!" I yell, grab a nearby pan, and hurl it towards them. I do not expect it to do anything else but pass through the transparent bodies, though. It could serve only as a distraction as I run to the door.

The talking monster finally notices the three additional house guests, too, because he lets out a scream. I do not turn around to see what becomes of him, but I hope that the three ghosts will pin their attention to him rather than me…

"Where are you going again?" One of the ghosts, unfortunately, zooms in front of the door, blocking the way. They grin again, the strange top hat tilting slightly and the scarf around the neck swaying softly. “Stay here a while longer.”

I freeze, shaking from both the cold and fear. I look around, slowly backing away and holding my arms in front of my body as if any of that could save me. “P-please, d-don’t k-kill me.”

The ghost blinks, still smiling and then erupting in low laughs. “Hiihiihiiihiii! I forgot how fun living could be."

The way he phrases it makes me pale further. Every drop of blood has been drained from my face and I feel faint. Half of the shaking might as well be because of the cold water freezing my skin. _Ghost buddies… staying here forever… sweet mother of –_

A burst of heat in the room makes me jump. It has stopped raining, but the room is still as cold as ever. The sudden change in temperature causes the water sticking to the walls and the ground sizzle, smoke rises to the air as a result. Still, I’m not too surprised or confused, when blue flames fill my vision.

“Get back!” Grim yells and spits another set of flames at random directions.

I duck, barely avoiding getting scalded. “H-hey! Where are you aiming!?”

“Shut up! I’m gonna get these ghosts, so stay out of this!” He yells, looking around for one of the white creatures to appear.

Just then, a flash of white in a faraway corner of the ceiling catches my eye. “There! Look up!”

Surprisingly, Grim does so and sees just in time one of his targets descending down. In a flash, he’s surrounded by blue flames that aim towards the approaching ghost. The ghost halts, a visible expression of panic on his face.

“Gah! Hot, hot, hot!” He screams and is gone within a second.

I feel relieved to know that the ghosts are not invincible, but I can’t even slouch down my shoulders when I see another one trying to sneak behind Grim. “Behind you!”

The cat-like creature whirls around, burning the ghost with his flames. Once the smoke fades, he’s panting, like the use of his powers has taken a toll. His narrowed eyes zero down on me and I tense up, expecting to be the next victim.

“You! Can’t you do anything else, but stand there?” He asks in frustration and looks around once more for the ghosts.

I blanch, not expecting such commentary in this situation. “Wh-why am I – what do you expect me to do!?”

“I don’t know! Use magic or something to get these things out of here!” He huffs and stands up to glare at me. “Are you some sort of weakling?”

Physically, I’m not the most muscle filled individual out there. Understandably, Grim is questioning my magical abilities, but when you don't have any the question does not sting as much as it should.

I glare at him in return. “I can’t use magic.”

Those peculiar ears twitch. “Eh? You can’t – Pffffft!” His cheeks swell up with laugher that he lets out a moment later. “You can’t use magic! You’re really useless after all!”

My face flares up. This time, his words sound demeaning, degrading, like I’m missing a limb that everyone else has. Back when I told Mr. Crowley, his reaction had been… embarrassing, to say the least. He had first laughed at me – something that filled me with shame – and then looked at me like I’d popped out an extra head. He hadn’t outright mocked me or deemed me worthless, but that’s exactly what Grim’s doing.

I inhale, still keeping in mind that this monster could turn me into a human-sized barbecue. He’d listened to me and hasn’t done anything… physically harmful for me, yet.

“Why are you even here?” The question is the only thing that comes up in my mind. I want to change the subject. “Didn’t the headmaster throw you out?”

At the mention of that masked man, Grim’s laugher ceases and his eyes slit into a glare. The look of pure hatred isn’t directed at me, though. “Tch! Nobody can keep me off this academy. That headmaster and the Mirror of Darkness don’t clearly have eyes for a genius like me.”

 _The Mirror of…_ I halt, recalling the words Dire used when trying to send me back home. The memory creates a hole in my gut, but with it, I realize what the talking cat is referring to. "What does that mirror have to do with anything?"

“Huh? Aren’t you a student here? You should know these things!” He frowns deeper and goes on another rant. “That thing sorts everyone out to their dorms, but… on my case…”

There is a strange atmosphere in this place when his voice softens. There is no haughtiness or arrogance left on his demeanor, almost like a rock is slowly pressing its weight down on him and crushing him down. The slits in his eyes soften, and the tips of his ears tilt downwards, the curious blue flames in them flickering and shrinking. Even his tail doesn’t move anymore.

Something in my chest squeezes my heart. The sight of him like this is like looking at a sad kitten after being kicked. His furry face is twisted into a sad frown and he looks down at the wooden boards like trying to find some kind of answer for his disheartened state. _He looks so broken down._

Almost as soon as he’s down though, Grim perks up and looks back at me. “Anyway, this is a loss for the entire world, and they don’t even realize it. That’s why I came here, ya know.”

“… Wait. Let me get this straight,” I sigh and cross my arms, losing whatever fear I might have felt towards this monster the longer he keeps on talking. “You want to enroll in this school.”

“Yes, weren’t you listening to me?” He asks back, clearly peeved off.

I shake my head. “No, I was listening. What I don’t understand is why you even want to be here.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m gonna become a great magician as the world has never seen!" He declares proudly, chest puffing out and by this point, I notice that the strange collar he wore before is missing.

I nod, slowly. “Right… But how’re you going to do it, if you aren’t even going to school?”

His swinging tail freezes. “Um… that’s…”

 _He doesn’t have a plan._ I recall how bad I had felt for him when Dire was dragging him along by the whip, how he had been enthusiastic to get the robes from me, and now boasting about his reasons for being here.

His plans – dreams – have been crushed and he has nowhere else to go, but here. Not that leaving was ever an option for him, it seems.

_We are both stranded here._

“If… if you just march to the campus, they’re going to kick you out again and again,” I continue slowly, watching his reaction in case he might snap. “How’re you going to become a great magician, if you aren’t even allowed to learn about it?”

His tiny paws are curled. “S-shut up! I’m gonna learn no matter what anyone says! They can’t keep on throwing me out every time!”

“So, your plan is basically to – look out! They’re back!” I point behind him at the two ghosts who float through the wall.

He tenses up, flames rising high around his fur.

…

Everything is in chaos. There is furniture knocked around the place – not that there weren’t any, to begin with. At certain spots, the walls are covered in dark hues where the flames grazed them, but the rainwater filled pots extinguished the flames.

And then there is Grim and I, standing in exhaustion in the middle of the lounge. While I may not have used magic, screaming and hiding from oncoming attacks on both sides has drained me of energy. When the ghosts just stopped coming, whatever vigor I had in my system just left and my limbs became numb.

“That,” I exhale and crouch down, “was pretty cool.”

_And terrifying._

Grim looks at me weakly, ears flattened against his head. “T-that was sca – I-I mean, no! That wasn’t scary at all, ya know!”

Automatically, I raise an eyebrow at his stuttering. “Sure.”

His face morphs into yet another frown. “I was _not_ scared!”

Before we can continue talking, the door is opened rather loudly. “Good evening! The kind me has brought dinner!”

A choke of surprise gets stuck on my tongue and I look at Dire with incredulous wide eyes. He waltzes forward, minding the wet floor and holding a basket in his other hand. There is a charming smile on his face, and it reminds me of those kinds that business people use to get money leeched out of their customers. I don’t like it. Especially after he practically dumped me into this… well, a dump of a dorm.

He stops, but not because of the look I give him. He stops because he spots Grim next to me. “That's the monster who caused havoc at the entrance ceremony! It was thrown out earlier, so why is it here!?”

I can’t get words out. Grim, on the other hand, takes a step forward with a cocky grin on his face. “Hmph! I vanquished those ghosts for you. Be grateful for that!”

Mr. Crowley doesn’t follow his words immediately, but stays silent and looks around, like seeing the few changes that have happened during his absence. His pin-like eyes are particularly focused on the charred walls.

I stay quiet, too nervous all of sudden to even speak out. What does this scene even look like to him? Me with the monster cat who… I’m still not sure what he did at this ‘entrance ceremony’.

_He will get kicked out again._

For some reason, after seeing his deflated spirit at the mention of not being able to attend this place, my gut twists.

“Come again?” Dire looks at Grim for answers before sliding his gaze to me.

Without thinking I step forward. “Mr. Crowley, w-were you aware that there are ghosts in this building?”

Again, he looks confused but then clarity rises to his face. “A-ah. Yes, now that I think about it. I recall there being mischievous ghosts in this building that scared the students from approaching it.”

My jaw has never dropped this hard before. This man, who claims to be the headmaster of a college, escorted me, a girl with absolute nonexistent capabilities of protecting herself from magical beings, into this non-figuratively haunted house. This place already appears to have an unstable foundation and is collapsing, but… _he_ forgot _to mention the thing about the ghosts._

“How can you place me into a house with ghosts?” The question comes out naturally and I’m startled how neutral I sound.

He visibly jumps at the question but then laughs awkwardly. "No need to worry. They're just a bunch of troublemakers and nobody has ever gotten injured… at least to my knowledge."

I hear the last mumbled part and become even more horrified by this man’s behavior. _To_ his _knowledge!?_

He clears his throat, pointedly ignoring my outraged expression. “More importantly, could you explain why this monster is here?”

“He saved me from those ‘troublemaker’ ghosts,” I hiss and gesture at the cat who has surprisingly stayed silent to this point. “He helped me to get rid of them.”

“Eh?” Golden eyes look down at the furred creature. “This one right here? How on earth did you manage to make it help you?”

The dark individual fur strands stand up on Grim’s body. “What do you mean by ‘it’!?”

“I just told him where the ghosts are and he used his powers to chase them off,” I quickly utter out, afraid that another fight would ensue from not intervening.

“Truly?” Now, he appears interested – fascinated, to be exact – and taps his chin with the end of his finger. The golden claw on it barely grazes the white skin. “For the two of you to team up…”

“I don’t think it’s called teaming up, ya know. The human was only watching,” Grim cuts through his musings and points at me accusingly.

My face screws up into a frown, like lemon just appeared into my mouth. The irritation and anger I felt towards this talking animal come back in full force. It’s like dealing with one of my younger siblings’ cheeky responses and commentary all over again. The difference is that Grim is not family, so there is no overall fondness I would otherwise experience.

“Can I see you defeat the ghosts one more time?”

… _What?_

Every possible color drains from my face again. I look at Mr. Crowley as if he’s one of the ghosts who chased me around earlier. His arms are crossed and even with the dark mask on his face looks at me in all seriousness.

“But we already chased out the ghosts. Forget it. I ain’t doing it again,” Grim says and looks away with his nose in the air.

"Same," I nod but remember who this man is – the one who can make sure I can get home. "T-to be fair, sir, the ghosts are really gone, so I don’t think that’s possible anymore.”

_Not that I would do it even if they were still here._

Instead of giving any form of negative reaction, the tall man smiles that sickly-sweet smile that promises no good. “No need to worry. I’ll transform myself into a ghost and you’ll fight me.”

He says it like the act is as simple as changing clothes. Cold sweat goes down my back and even the droplets of cold water in my clothes send violent shivers up the spine. The only thing I can think of is that this person can’t be serious. Isn’t the state of both the lounge and I proof enough that something occurred during his lengthy absence? Does he want us to do this to satisfy some sort of sadistic trait that he can’t use on his own real students?

Grim shows more irritation and confusion on his face rather than fear that is edged onto my features. “Huh? Why should I?”

“Is there anything particular you would like as a reward for this?” Dire asks without missing a beat.

My heartbeat quickens, knowing exactly where bribery could lead someone. And judging by how the cat-like monster’s ears perk up and his frown melts away, it’s working. I’m trembling again, silently sending him a look that is begging him not to fall for this.

“Canned tuna,” the answer comes out naturally and his blue eyes bright up. “I wanna canned tuna!”

The smile on Dire’s painted lips curls up wider. "Very well, then. You shall get your canned tuna _if_ you defeat me.”

 _Don’t encourage him!_ I want to scream but end up biting my lower lip. This is not the right way to go about this… not that I could know what the right way is to go when you’re stuck in another world.

My opinion on this matter does not matter, because Mr. Crowley quickly whips out a vial of brightly colored liquid. I watch, frozen and stiff, as he gulps it down within seconds. He disappears into a puff of thick smoke which enters my lungs like the scent of campfire. I cough and when I open my eyes in the place of the crow-masked man is another white ghost.

 _Magic._ It really does exist here. The fact rolls up my insides. I’m not staring with stars in my eyes at the transformation nor do I get any form of giddy sensation. My head spins and that’s the only physical reaction I have.

“Ugh, now that I think about it, I don’t like the idea of working with this human again,” Grim says out of nowhere with the most bothered face and tone he can muster.

I glare at him weakly. “You can kiss goodbye to your tuna then.”

A noise of protests comes out of him, but then his ears flatten, and he looks away, muttering something beneath his breath. I would probably do the same if we were alone. The problem is that we are not.

“Let’s get this over with,” I swallow and look back at Mr. Crowley nervously. The sight of him like this is… just plain weird, mildly put.

He does not give us a warning, merely floats up towards the ceiling without a word. Then, just as quickly as he rises, he starts shooting down towards us, similar to what the three other ghosts had done. I stiffen and immediately give Grim instructions.

_This is crazy!_

Everything occurs the same way as it did with the real ghosts. I tell – more like a scream – Grim the location of our target and he directs or avoids an attack from that general direction. This is how it goes on for a while, and the longer we keep on doing it the less tension I have on my shoulders. _This is only Mr. Crowley, nothing to worry about… maybe._

Unlike the three ghosts, this "fight" does not last as long. It throws me off, but at the same time, I can be relieved that nothing was burned down, and nobody got hurt. Still, by the end of this made-up fight, things make less and less sense than they did at the beginning.

I blink, flabbergasted how quickly Dire descends and his ghost form disappears yet into another cloud of smoke.

“Unbelievable,” is what he says the moment his original form is visible. “To think that there is a human who could get a monster to obey them.”

Grim gives him an unimpressed look. “I did my part, now where’s my tuna?”

The monster’s words go unheard and Dire starts speaking with a thoughtful expression. “Hmm… to be completely honest, for a while my teacher instinct has been telling me something. Miss Miller, you may have the talent to become a beast tamer. But then…”

Again, nothing makes sense to me – not this situation or what Mr. Crowley is trying to say. I stand there, like a petulant student who should understand the subject of a simple lecture in a classroom. I’m neither a student anymore, but the sense of loss I get is familiar.

My head is throbbing. It has been aching from the moment I hit it against a corner, but the pain has slowly spread to the base of my brain. Thousands of shards of glass keep on slicing and poking the flesh and my face tightens. _I hate this._ More specifically, I hate this entire place. So far, every single thing I’ve encountered have either been utterly terrifying, strange or plain rude. The latter is more directed at the monster cat next to my feet. That does not mean Mr. Crowley is entirely excluded.

There is almost nothing but pure exhaustion and crushed hopes of sleeping in my own bed tonight settled in my bones. How many people exactly take sleeping in their own houses for granted?

“Mr. Crowley,” I finally mutter out weakly, my voice sounds hoarse. I’m not sure whether it’s from being genuinely tired or how I had practically yelled orders at Grim previously. When the pair of golden eyes turn to me, I purse my lips, the lump in my throat growing. “I’m… kind of tired.”

There, I said it like it is. For some reason, the mere sight of him is the reminder that I’m somewhere where I can never fit in. I feel uncomfortable in this building, even if it is the only place where I can stay for now.

Contrary to being insulted or not taking the hint, the man smiles again that sweet smile. “Ah, yes. I believe you’ve been through more than enough for today and require rest. Then, allow me to remove this monster for you.”

“Fngha!?” On that note, the blue eyes of the said animal widen, and he takes a step back. “No way am I getting kicked out again! I’ll go to this academy no matter how many times you throw me out!”

Without even a blink, Dire pulls out his whip. Grim jumps, recalling the painful moments when that same object was wrapped around him. My lower lip wobbles and I look at the scene a with hesitant idea of stepping between them. The monster in this case is clearly contemplating the idea of running away or fighting for his place. But the thought of this place burning down isn’t exactly what I think of at the moment.

 _“You’ll never amount to anything if you do this,”_ a voice, a familiar hollow echo from the past, brushes my ears. Grim’s situation couldn’t be any different than mine had been a while back, but…

I recall the threats of being burned, being bitten, insulted – he called me _useless_ – and then shown arrogance the size of Mount Everest… frankly getting rid of him would do me more good than bad. The latter is practically nonexistent.

_Guilt would follow, though._

His ears had been drooping from remembering how he had not been accepted. Much like then – which is literally less than a half an hour ago – something squeezes my heart. It brings bitterness to my mouth and unconsciously my hands clench into fists. _I’m an idiot._ The worst part of this feeling is that it can make me relate to this speaking animal.

“Wait.”

Both the man and cat freeze to look at me. I focus on the eyes glowing with a yellow hue and take a step closer.

“Let him stay here.”

“Eh?” Mr. Crowley’s eyes turn into small grains behind his mask.

Grim’s expression is similar, mouth hanging open and a few sharp canines poking out. “You…”

“I’m a magicless human. I couldn’t survive another ghost attack alone. I don’t know,” _or care,_ “about a beast tamer, but he’s my best bet in surviving here.”

A frown tugs on dark lips half hiding underneath the shadow of the mask’s beak. “But… he’s a monster. He’s only going to cause trouble, whether he does protect you or not.”

I dare to look away for a moment, thinking about how to answer that. "But there would be trouble whether he’s here or not. You heard him – he’s going to try getting into this place if you throw him out. Don’t you think that would cause more problems, sir?”

_Oh, you just had to use ‘sir’._

“And I’m sure someone as… _kind_ as you, wouldn’t let defenseless person, like me, stay in a place riddled with ghosts.”

He falls silent but judging by the glimmer in his eyes I can say that this short argument is closed. I smile, a bit impishly if I’m being honest. I ignore Grim’s stunned look and exhale heavily through my nose. This does not lift the weight off my shoulders. It merely makes me wonder if I have dug a deeper grave for myself.

…

“Why did you let me stay here?”

There is a burrito – my fear of being in a world with crazy food has been crushed – an actual burrito inches away from my mouth when Grim decides to open his big mouth. He has been silent for a while and it certainly has been a bit worrisome, but he could have said what is on his mind after the dinner Dire brought had been finished.

I lean back on the old chair. It creaks so loudly I fear it might snap soon. “I… I just needed you to stay here so I can take care of the ghost problem.”

The answer apparently is good enough, because he puffs out his chest. “Sure, I could beat those guys up any time. Consider yourself lucky to have me here.”

“I’m kinda regretting you stay here, though,” I mutter so softly that the words turn into an incoherent mess.

His ears perk. “Hm? Did you say something?”

“Nothing,” I say and then stand up, not even half of the food given to me finished. I wrap them up, somehow thinking negatively of starving otherwise. My stomach keeps on turning, but not because of nutrition nor the need for it. “Behave. I’m going out.”

This time I’ve made absolutely sure that there are no other magical surprises. According to the bird-like man, “there is no way that the grounds have been designed to cause any physical harm on the students or anyone moving in them”. However, because of what has happened in this haunted dorm so far, it could be that he has _forgotten_ to mention something else, just like with the ghosts.

“Why should I listen to you?” The cat monster shatters my thoughts that could potentially make me unable to step an inch out of this building. That’s pretty much the only thing his question does.

I freeze by the door, hand a few breaths away from the knob. Every part of me is resisting an urge to just curl from anger. “Beyond the fact that if it weren’t for _me_ you would be crawling secretly back to the academy and get thrown out, again? No, I don’t think there is _any_ reason for you to listen to me.”

When I turn to my immense satisfaction his mouth has been zipped close. There’s obviously no way he can retort to that. Still, he has managed to intensify the headache and my sudden need to get as far away from this rotten building as possible.

“If you want to stay, don’t cause trouble. I may not be able to use magic, but I only need to say a word to the headmaster, and you’ll be on your merry way out of the campus. With that, you’ll be further away from reaching your goal… Your choice,” I say the last words with a sardonic smile and walk out.

 _“What’s up with her?”_ The faint sound of Grim’s voice reaches through the thin walls and the wind, but I ignore it.

I know that if I turn back around, I might say or do something I regret. If there is one thing I suck at, it’s thinking rationally when under intense pressure. And currently, I’m holding myself up by… I’m not sure why I’m still able to walk. The thought of slipping down the steep stairs leading towards the gates and cracking my head wide open does bring some comfort.

The dark robes have barely dried up. There are droplets of water on my glasses and they have also been stained and full of my fingerprints. I don’t recall fiddling with them that much, though. To my further annoyance, I end up stepping into a puddle and more water enters my boots. _Son of a –_

Nearing the very thin line being hysterical, I kick the gate as soon as it’s within the reach. The metal shake and trembles violently and looks ready to fall over. However, when it doesn’t, I give it another good kick until I realize that damaging property that isn’t mine wouldn’t be a good idea…

“Ugh!” I growl, too afraid that something or someone on the other side of the world might hear me scream if I let anything else out.

The sound of grass being ripped off the ground interrupts whatever night owl might be singing its songs. I grasp the patch of land like its hair and pull. The earth is wet from the rain and smells fresh, refreshing. The dirt gets into my nails, the patches of grass are slippery and stick to my skin. I pay little attention to my environment, taking a leap of faith in Mr. Crowley's words.

Thoughts of my apartment come flowing in like the cold wind against my face. I want to be there, drink warm tea with try mattress underneath me, and watch Netflix. Even the sight of annoying commercials about teeth would be more enjoyable than going through this evening.

_Think._

My arms finally cease their tearing and swing back limply to my sides.

_Think – what happened before all of this?_

This is probably the third time I’m trying to recall any form of memory from moments before the coffin… nothing comes up.

 _No, no, no, no, no!_ My face screws into a deep frown as I hold my head, trying to force memories to the surface. I don’t enjoy the feeling of having a blank space inside my skull. If something is missing, it must be important.

_Why am I here?_

“Hm? You’re…”

A strangled scream nearly jumps out of my throat as I recoil from the sudden voice. It’s unfamiliar, soft and velvet, nothing like Mr. Crowley’s and needles poke my skin. I had thought that nobody would be out here. This is the start of a school year, right? The entrance ceremony the headmaster mentioned is a ceremony for a semester, right? Did I mistake something?

This place is supposed to be abandoned.

I shoot up and immediately choke on air when words try to leave my mouth. It’s both from fear and the sight of a new face standing on the other side of the measly metal gate.

He is tall. Taller than my father and uncles, taller than the tallest person I’ve seen in real life. He’s lithe and slim, dark uniform only stands out in the dark thanks to neon green coloring on the vest underneath the dark jacket.

Beyond the height and two ink-black protrusions poking out of his head – horns, this person has _horns_ – his eyes are what make everything else freeze. They are bright, almost cat-like from the way they seem to glow against the paleness of their owner’s slim face. Two orbs are as green as grass or even the color on the clothes. But most of all, they remind me of fireflies. I’ve never seen ones in person, but this is the glow I imagine them to have.

Still, my eyes are drawn back up to the horns. They also remind me of something. This person – a student, boy, man, something – has features that scream nostalgia from… childhood.

_Maleficent._

We both stand still. The silence of the night deafening and the cold water and chilly air bites my skin. The muteness could last forever, if…

An unattractive snort and laugh leave my mouth. I jump, covering it with my palm, but the corners of my cheeks are pulled up painfully. I’m shaking – not from cold – and it worsens the longer I stare.

The man blinks.

“Y-you,” I breathe out shakily, free hand rising up and the other one uncovering my laughing lips. “You have… horns.”

I break out into fits of broken laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know those authors that just have the motivation to go along with the original plot? I'm not one of those. I honestly become easily bored, if I follow the story word to word. That's why there will be choices and surprises along this story that do not match the game's. For example how Mia didn't go to the entrance ceremony. Her presence is pretty much unknown to everyone but Crowley both as a person and as a girl. It makes things more interesting. 
> 
> Also, you liked/were surprised/dissatisfied by Malleus appearing this early? I don't care. I write to keep my mental health stable and so forth. Malleus is also trying to do so by taking late walks around a creepy dorm because he wasn't invited to the entrance ceremony. (Poor Malleus.)


	3. A Cinderella working complex

Whoever this person is he certainly does not flinch from the mad cackling occurring in front of him.

His form stays on the other side of the short metal gate like the willowy trees growing around the old dorm's premises. Anyone else would’ve definitely made it for the hills when a strange girl is laughing for no reason in the middle of the night.

It doesn’t stop. The clear giggles become faint but turn into a row of uncontrollable chortles. I’ve been laughing far longer than could be comfortable in social situations. It has gotten hard to breathe. My face is red, I can’t stop shaking. _Of all the things… why did this guy have to appear?_ The question makes the situation seem more absurd and I have to swallow another bile of laugher ready to tear out.

I’m too afraid to look up at his face in case I’ll see what I thought to be a trick of mind poking out his head. I just know that the second I see those horns again, the strange illuminated green eyes, I’ll lose it for the second time.

Of all the things that I’ve seen, the sight of a man with horns had to be the thing that cracked me.

”I-I’m s-sorry," is what I finally manage to say in a coherent sentence, hands leaning against my knees. “I-it’s been a l-long day… just let me c-calm down a s-sec.”

It’s silent. The stranger does what I ask – bless him – and for that, I try even harder to bite my tongue. Gradually, the shaking decreases, and I straighten up, dusting the robes and picking pieces of grass off my fingers. I must look like a mess. The second this realization hits me with full force, the skin on my face prickles from heat. _Way to go, Mia._

For a while, I’m tongue-tied. There’s no way that my bizarre behavior will be forgotten just like that.

“S-sorry for l-laughing,” I say, voice still shaking with faint mirth.

My eyes remain at the level of where his collarbone should be, but even then, I have to crane my neck a bit to appear like I’m not looking at the ground. _Don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird._

“G-good evening,” I stutter next, wanting immediately to give myself a good kick.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, much like I didn’t, and it’s unnerving. There’s a placid mask replacing any human-like expression. Even without looking up, I can still tell. But then the corners of his mouth quirk up and I hold still, waiting what his reaction could be.

“Good evening,” he greets smoothly, the opposite of me. However, much like how there is slight nervousness in my voice, his hides bits of amusement.

Only now do I notice how many fingerprints and dirt cover the front of my glasses. I swallow, thickly, itching for a way to get these cleaned without this stranger’s notice. I refuse to pick them up and use the sleeves that are definitely no cleaner than the rest of me.

I focus more intently on his clothes, wanting the chilly wind to just throw me back inside the house… _Wait. A uniform._ I did acknowledge the fact that he wears one, but now couldn’t be any worse time for it to click into place. It couldn’t be more different from the long robes on me, but the black suit adorned with a bright green vest is like a smack on the face – it's the kind of uniform you wear to school.

Just as I’m examining him, he does the same apparently.

“You’re a girl, am I right?”

His question snaps me back right on the edge of entering another hysterical attack. However, at the same time, it’s dangerously close to causing it. My mouth dries, cold sweat breaks out on my back that straightens into an arrow.

Panicking and wanting to pull back my hair into the hood, I end up looking further up and finally meeting his eyes through smudged glasses. His eyes blink, black lashes stark against the white skin – I've never seen anyone as pale as him, and my school had a mass of introverts who avoided the sun like vampires.

 _His eyes are really green,_ is the first thought that echoes inside my otherwise empty mind… Then my eyes slide from the dark mascara around them to the ears on both sides of his head. Everyone has ears but these are definitely unique. And by that, I mean slimming towards the ends and forming pointy tips.

Of course, he doesn’t appear like a normal human. Just like the headmaster.

My lower lip quivers. _What is he?_

“Yes,” I say with a calm face – no, my face is blank. I’m nowhere near being calm and that becomes evident when in the next second words just come tumbling out of my mouth. "L-look, I know this is an all-boys school, b-but there has been a mistake of some sort and I can’t return home. I mean, I just woke up in a coffin and a freakish mon…" I choke on words, trying to keep explanations at a minimum. "Anyway, I would really appreciate it, if you wouldn’t tell anyone about me-this!”

Much like how I ended throwing up on Dire, I have an urge to kneel over. Thinking of that crow-masked man only ten folds that instinct. _Did he say anything about letting someone else know about me? Is this why he told me not to wander around? Is this place part of the campus!? Have I gone and done the opposite of what he wanted!?_

“Curious,” he says, raising a hand to his chin in a thoughtful manner, not appearing to be put off by the rambling. There’s a smirk playing on his lips. “A girl here at Night Raven College… What a strange event. And you’re to reside in here of all places?”

“…Yes.”

My shoulders tense up. This is not good. I'm afraid of what he might ask or direct this conversation. It’s all evident in the tone. I don’t want to go over the same conversation I had with Mr. Crowley. He had been skeptical of my origin; this person would be no different if he decides to do some digging.

“For whatever reason, you – “

“What’s your name?” I ask, cutting him off. I should figure that part out so I could possibly tell about him at a later date. Who knows, maybe he'll be bought to stay silent.

The question comes off as rude – it interrupted whatever he was trying to say. Immediately when silence falls heavily down between us, I regret opening my mouth. Where are the manners I’m supposed to posses from customer service? Any kind of boss – even mine – would scold me for this.

Understandably, those peculiar green eyes widen. The expression is comical on his face that has otherwise kept on mostly a neutral front. _There, look at what you've done. You idiot – he’s clearly thinking of ratting me out!_

It’s a chilly night, but this long robe is really hot and making me sweaty. “O-oh,” I let out with an awkward smile, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry, you were about to say something. What was – “

“You,” he cuts me off this time and I stiffen in anticipation. However, despite being tall and covered in dark clothes – something which would intimidate anyone – his voice isn’t sharp nor annoyed. “You… don’t know?”

For the second time, I’ve to crane my neck to meet his gaze. My hands are shaky and clammy from the nerves and cold and I clasp them together. Again, the way those narrow eyes have widened is off-putting.

Opposite of his expression, my skin wrinkles together into a frown. “I don’t know what? You?”

My eyes dart slightly up to his horns. Thankfully, I can bite back the incredulous laugher bubbling in my chest. There’s puzzlement in the air now and I want to crack it like I’m trying to pluck an eyelash out of my eye.

I tilt my head, certain that I’ve never met this person before. Not that I have got an amazing memory when it comes to recognizing people, but... I would remember anyone who looks like him. It’s the horns. And when his face doesn’t morph back into a blank mask nor shows a teasing smile, I can only conclude he’s being serious.

“No,” I finally say out loud, expecting my disbelieving facial expression to convey the message. “I don’t know you… should I?”

His mouth is parted slightly, but then it closes, and he stares at me intensely. “You truly do not know who I am?”

When he asks that question again, I pause. _He kinda looks like Maleficent,_ the voice whispers in my head, but I brush it off. There’re too many connections to magic and Disney here. It could all be a freakish coincidence.

I shake my head, being tired and not on the board of what’s happening grating my patience. “No. Are students even supposed to be here at this hour? Assuming that… you’re a student?”

The last bit comes out hesitantly and I want to bury my head into the ground like an ostrich. Just when I think I’ve an upper hand I go out and destroy it. Not that I would have any in the first place considering the huge height difference – the thought of me trying to become an authority figure is laughable.

He must think along the same lines because within a few seconds his lips curl back upwards. It could be a trick of the light, but those eyes of his seem to flash in the dark. “This is truly rare.”

_Rare?_

This is the kind of word you use to describe an object or a natural occurrence that people can rarely catch a glimpse of, like a plant that has only ever been seen twice. As expected, I frown, not sure what to make of the sudden smile on his face.

“What might your name be?” He asks next.

I cross my arms nervously, there’s a lump in my throat out of the blue. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Mr. Horns raises a dark eyebrow, the smile – no, that’s a smirk – never falling down.

_Should I tell him that?_

I shake my head and shift weight on my feet, trying not to cringe when I can feel the moist left within the boots squish beneath the weight.

“Didn’t I ask that first?” I ask in return, not feeling comfortable starting to share personal information with this… strange, tall and dark man walking randomly near an “abandoned” dorm.

I suddenly get goosebumps all over my arms. I want this conversation to be over with.

Luckily, rather than irritated, he looks ready to answer. “My name…”

There's a long pause that isn't needed. He could just say it, but instead, the dark-haired male has halted and tilts his head. The latter is an action of a cat sitting on a shelf while looking down on the life occurring below. However, instead of the arrogance of a feline, he looks thoughtful and for a moment there's a fine line between his brows – he's frowning, even if it's just for a second.

“On second thought," he looks back up, voice soft and casual. The dark horns glimmer in the faint light from small street lamps adorning the area. "I won’t say it.”

I blink, wondering if I heard him right. Although, the minute he’s smiling again should’ve alarmed me immediately. Instead, I stare at him blankly for a short while, mind muffled by tiredness. This entire day has been one impossibility after another – this encounter feels like a dream that I've made up.

“You ‘won’t say it’?” I parrot, watching how his face doesn’t move a muscle. He’s being serious. In disbelief, I let out a huff of breath escape past my lips. Whatever uneasiness I felt a second ago is gone. _He’s making fun of me._ “Well, _fine_ , don’t tell me. I would’ve snitched you to the headmaster anyway. Walking and snooping around the place the way you do…”

I choke on my words.

 _I should stop._ This person has got horns and is more than a head taller compared to my dad and uncles. This place isn’t even my property, nor should I stress over this any more than necessary. _I should go back._

The sound of him chuckling is like having a cloudburst in the middle of the night. Those green eyes are once more glowing in the dark, but unlike the image of fireflies they produced earlier, they are now more like uranium doped glass marbles. They do not blink, just stare down at what they see and seep deep into the soul.

When he speaks, there’re glimpses of sharp fangs. “It’s best that you don’t know it. For if you did, human child, you’d feel a chill down your spine and thorns prickling your skin.”

His explanation makes me further confused but does carry a warning as well. I am not aggravated anymore, simply more cautious. _A chill down my spine?_ I swallow, sweat gathering further against my back. It’s cold again, and I shiver.

_Thorns._

He makes it sound like bad omens would follow me if his name was known… Which doesn’t seem that unlikely, considering the circumstances. My curiosity and thought of framing him to Mr. Crowley shrivel up and die faster than I can blink. I stare at the stranger now with the panic that has been there the moment he started talking.

 _A human child,_ I think, and bite my tongue. _He… he’s really not a human._ It was painfully obvious from the beginning. Although now I feel like I'm facing the second version of Grim – _he won’t hurt me, right?_

“Feel free to call me whatever you’d like,” he says, closing his eyes momentarily and losing the cold expression. Then, he opens them again and there's an honest curiosity in those orbs. “Although, I’m still curious to know your name.”

My fingers dig into my arms. “I… My name is – “

I'm imagining my body being torn open when a sudden explosion and chaos erupts from behind me. I can feel the ground shaking, the gate rattles lightly from the force that has come down from the top of the hill. From the old house, to be precise.

I whirl around, mouth falling wide open with a horrified shriek.

From behind the few broken windows flashes of blue blink like broken lights. A few seconds after pale white figures float out of the house, screaming much as I'd done.

“Grim!” I scream, like the little furball can actually hear it. He has large ears, so I’m hoping that’s the case. “I-I’m sorry, I’ve got to go!”

I run up the slippery stone stairs without glancing back. However, I do halt in the middle of it and glance back over my shoulder. My heart is pounding. I feel as if I’m between a canyon and being burned alive in a furnace.

The man – creature, monster, whatever – has not left or disappeared. He’s still watching me, appearing a lot smaller with this new gained distance and difference in grounds… If only those horns and glimmering eyes could be ignored, he would pass as a normal person. But considering he’s not, my gut tightens.

_What to do?_

From the fear that he might do something if I do not give an answer, I look helplessly between the shaking house and him. Finally, I come to a decision that I would definitely regret later. “Carrie! My name’s Carrie!”

As if I’ll give a stranger my real name.

This time, I do not turn back around.

“Promise me that you won’t tell anyone about me!”

…

I’m staring at my reflection with the most tired and helpless expression I could ever muster. It doesn’t take a lot of effort, though. Every time the muscles around the frowning mouth and downcast eyes relax, they stiffen back within seconds.

I can’t stop thinking. I can't walk to this room that has apparently become mine and lay down on that squeaking bed that looks ready to break down from the weight of a feather. Not that I could ever sleep comfortably on a bed that isn’t mine. The room is dark and run-down, much like the entire house.

The mirror in the small bathroom is cracked from the side, but the rest has been covered in dust. On the edge of the sink, there are now a few grey rags covered in dark blotches. I’d found them in a closed-off cabinet beneath the very sink they’ve helped to clean.

But now that I've wiped away all the dust, the reflection is clear and stares right back at me with a disheartening effect.

_I’m a mess._

Wiping my glasses clean has done little in improving my overall appearance. The sparkling robes have been reduced to flat fabric that merely hangs from my shoulder. The rainwater has taken whatever glow they seemed to possess and my hair sticks out of my skull like a bunch of seaweed. Even now I’m still finding dirt and grass from my fit outside.

A bit hopefully, I glance at the bathing corner, but immediately am disgusted to see a bunch of spiderweb hanging above it. The entire thing looks like it hasn’t been used in years. _No bath for me then._ I couldn’t feel more ashamed and repulsed.

Grim keeps on snoring from his spot on the bed. For some reason, he found it alright to sleep next to the person he almost killed.

“Fnga… more… I wanna more… tuna,” he keeps on mumbling under his breath, small body rising and falling from every inhale and exhale.

I’ve never seen or heard anyone sleep talking, but it’s making me want to stuff my ears full of dust just to get some silence. In the end, instead of waking the speaking monster rudely, he gets to continue his rest while I head out and downstairs. _Of all the roommates I could’ve had…_

The squeaking floor planks keep me vigilant and stiff the entire way. I’ve spent this short time in this house and already hate it. The place is too big and there’s only me, Grim and…

“You’re up early. Hihihi!”

“Eeep!” I jump on the last step of the stairs. The thin ghost has appeared through the floor and the reaction he gets only makes him laugh. I clutch the railing even when it groans and shakes. “W-wha – I-I’ll call for t-the monster, i-if you try a-anything!”

"Nah," he brushes me off and starts floating backward as if swimming in water. "We're not interested in hurting you, lil’ miss.”

“We're not stupid," the one ghost who is neither fat nor thin says and comes out next, smiling a bit when I give another small shriek. "We were just playing with you. No harm is done."

 _N-no harm done?_ My mouth is open, but I do not get even a sound out. Quite funny, considering how I’ve no problem in screaming from their appearance alone. Rattled, I get up, eyeing the two white creatures cautiously, before continuing my way down. _They won’t harm me… can I trust them?_

“The last ones here all screamed and left,” the thin ghost sighs and stops back floating. He looks disappointed now, crossing those twig-like arms. “It’s been very quiet since then. But now get prepared to be pranked! Hihihihi!”

“What’s your name, lil’ miss?” The other one asks curiously, almost innocently.

I freeze in the middle of the lounge, surprised that they have let me come this far. I turn to look at them, both waiting for the answer. The third ghost is nowhere to be seen, but it wouldn’t be a surprise if he’s hiding here… There’s no ‘if’ – he’s definitely waiting for a chance to get a reaction out of me as his brothers did.

“Mia,” I answer stiffly with my shoulders squared. “I’m Mia Miller… h-how about you?”

To my satisfaction, they don’t seem to expect this and look at each other. I expected the question to sound strange, which seems to be the case, but then I feel stupid for asking my tormentors their names so politely.

"She's asking our names," the thin one states as if to make sure he isn't the only one who heard it.

“I think she did, too,” the other one nods and then turns to me. “Nobody ever asked – “

“At least we don’t remember.”

“But my name is Hubert… I think," he adds the latter with hesitation, a contradiction to how he said his name.

“And I think my name’s Albert,” the thin one says and then points at something behind me. “And that’s…”

“Gilbert,” the third ghost finally makes his appearance right next to me and I yell out. The reaction causes all three of them to start howling with laugher like it’s the funniest joke in the world.

I shake my head, heart pounding in my chest and throat raw. There’s no sense in talking to these ghosts, they’ll only make me lose years of my life with all the scares. I don’t think I’ve ever feared for my life as much as I’ve in one night. I’ve shed off the outer layer of the robes, but that’s only half the reason why I’m trembling while searching for the kitchen.

_Stay calm._

With a parched throat in mind and the sound of the ghosts’ laugher still echoing against thin walls, I reach out for the rusty faucet. It’s no better than anything else in this house. The kitchen is covered with blankets of dust that should have been wiped away by the rain.

To my surprise and delight, water comes out. But then two concerns rise up – is this safe and do I’ve to pay the water bill?

A door is suddenly opened so loud and harshly that walls tremble. “Good morning! The kind me has brought breakfast!”

The faucet is closed quickly to the point that the handle could fall off. “G-good morning,” I choke in my surprise and force a smile on my tired face, “Mr. Crowley.”

“Ah! Miss Miller!” He greets, not expecting me to be up yet. In his hands, he holds a basket similar to the one he delivered yesterday. "I hope you have had plenty of rest last night. There’s much to discuss now.”

My stomach drops. Is it possible to get a sore gut depending on the stress level? I can think of how black and blue bruises forming on the inner layers of the intestines. 

Breakfast is the last thing on my mind.

“Eat up!”

“Wish we could still enjoy the feeling of being full,” Albert sighs.

As if only now noticing the ominous white figures floating above our heads, both Mr. Crowley and I crane our necks to look up. Albert is looking at the basket-like a man who died of starvation… which could be true.

“You three! Weren’t you disposed of yesterday?” The man asks, a frown tugging his lips. “Alright, I shall deal with you myself then.”

“Hiii!”

My head snaps back down to see his gloved hand tightening around a staff. The ghost brothers sense the danger and immediately start backing away, holding each other in an embrace. They do not appear so mean or cruel anymore, not when the staff is slowly raised up towards them.

I don’t know much about magic in this place, but…

“Wait!” I step forward and gain the attention of all eyes in the room. “Let them be. They’re okay!”

“Pardon me?” Mr. Crowley stops and slowly lowers his staff, blinking behind his mask, like he's not believing what he's hearing.

"They really haven't done… I mean," I trail off, wondering how I can make sense of this reaction. “I’m not against them being here. They’ve left me alone,” _mostly,_ “and they were here before us, so…” I shrug. “Please don’t dest- chase them out.”

The sight of more than one pair of surprised eyes staring at me sends a wave of déjà-vu down my back. I falter, letting down my arms that rose up the second I stepped forward.

“Well,” Mr. Crowley’s staff taps the ground, “Miss Miller you certainly have a peculiar way of accepting monsters and other creatures near you. Perhaps it’s your trait as a beast trainer?” He mutters the last part more to himself than me as if I’ve vaporized into thin air.

 _I can hear you, you know,_ I almost say my thoughts out loud, but won’t. His words make just as much sense as they did yesterday when my thoughts had been clouded by fresh stress and anxiety… Now, I’m just tired.

As far as this ‘beast tamer’ title goes, I couldn’t be more weirded out by how off-putting it sounds.

“Speaking of beasts,” the bird-like man looks around, no longer paying attention to the three ghosts. “Where is that little troublemaker raccoon?”

“Upstairs sleeping.”

He nods and walks past me to the table, setting down the basket. “I see. That’s probably for the best, but he is not truly needed in this conversation. Do sit down.”

It isn’t an order, but my brain translates it as one. In a blink, my butt meets the chair that nearly tips over from the new weight. I clutch its sides.

“Now, let’s continue the conversation from yesterday, if that’s alright with you,” Dire begins and unloads the basket from foods and goods. It's such a domesticated look on him that the weirdness of it all ruins the otherwise serious mood.

I give a short nod. “Of course.”

He gives me a sweet smile and seats himself on the opposite end of the table. “It’s great to see that despite being thrown into another world and not able to return home, you remain understanding in this situation.”

There’s a sensation of salt being rubbed into the wounds – figuratively. The brave and calm front I’ve slowly managed to build up in such a short period begins to crumble. A frown pinches on my face, the tightening muscles in my shoulders nearly cut off the blood flow that quickens from the reminder of my helplessness. 

There’s a green apple sitting innocently just an arms reach away from me, but I do not take it. There’s no hunger, just the aching pain in my chest. That’s where my mind focuses on. _Is he being cruel on purpose?_

Oblivious apparently to the depression he has caused in the air, Dire crosses his fingers and sits straight. He’s the opposite of the girl who now has a slumped back and haunted eyes.

The ghosts choose to not bother and poke fun at me, but it’s mostly because of the man who threatened to eradicate them. That’s the only good thing the masked man has brought here today.

“Miss Miller, it’s true that I’ve allowed you to stay here, but I can’t let you freeload this place until we can find a way to send you home. The same concerns that monster raccoon.”

Again, he plunges my gut into a pitch-black abyss. I can understand where he’s coming from, but I’m dreading what ideas for me are mulling over in that head of his. My eyes stay warily on the golden claws on each finger. They drum the wooden surface of the table for a second before retreating.

After a beat of silence, I lift my eyes back up to see golden eyes staring at me expectantly. I stiffen, realizing that he wants a response. My tongue doesn’t work, though, which means I can only give a rigid nod. 

Seeing that, he continues, thankfully. “No need to fear, though. The option I've to offer you is to do odd jobs and maintenance around the campus. Cleaning doesn’t seem to be much of a problem for you, given the state of this kitchen.”

Underneath the table, I cross my clammy hands. “So, I would…”

“Basically become the school’s janitor,” he finishes for me and pushes a sandwich across the surface towards me. “This way you’ll be permitted to walk on school grounds.” His sweet smile only widens as my face turns grave. “Not to mention you then have access to the school’s vast library to research a way home. Aren’t I most gracious?”

I stare at him, facial muscles frozen. That sweet smile reminds me of a sugary treat which makes your teeth ache after a bite. His words are another punch to the gut. _Me? Research?_

“I don’t – how would I even know what to look for?” I ask straightforwardly the point which bothers me. To my immense satisfaction, the corners of his mouth start to drop. “I don’t know anything about magic, so what should I even try to find?”

“Ah,” he lets out, mouth opening and the closing. Seeing how the image of a perfectly capable educator is melting away, he clears his throat. He clearly didn’t expect me to retaliate at his idea.

He’s stumbling and I know this could be a good chance to pick up something from him without interruptions. “Are students allowed to wander around the campus at night?”

I hardly think so, but now the pale face of the nightly visitor is clearer than ever. I recall the suave voice, those fangs poking out from behind his strangely painted lips. Most of all I can’t get both dark horns and the pair of glowing green eyes out of my head.

You would think that a man of his height and bearing could make a sound while walking, but his feet hadn’t even snapped a small random twig.

My question snaps Dire out of his stupor. “Of course not, but… whatever makes you ask such a question?”

I wet my lower lip; voice lost.

I suddenly feel very unsettled to have given a fake name to the stranger with green eyes. Of all the names, I picked the one belonging to a movie character who basically slaughtered kids at her school's prom and died at the end. I couldn't help it, though. The idea of giving my real name to that boy who refused even to give his own just didn't sit right.

But… if he’s not human and with horns to the boot, he’s the spitting image of a magical creature. Someone who could no doubt tear my head off in a second. _What have I done?_ I want to cry and lose the confidence I’ve gained from Dire’s speechless demeanor.

“No reason,” I finally answer. I’ve learned what I wanted to know. _He’s breaking the rules – he won’t risk doing that every night._ Enough time for me to pretend not to exist.

Naturally, my question and reactions are not normal and golden eyes narrow from suspicion. I sweat, pointedly trying to keep my gaze steady. I regret opening my mouth, much like how I did last night while being stared at by Horns – that’s what I will call that boy from now on. Unoriginal, but fitting.

Maybe this is the beginning of my madness? First wanting to throw someone under the bus and then try and cover for them.

I know what petty people can do if you get them into trouble. I'm not about to risk my neck for this one.

I wish sleep would’ve come to me last night. My head would work better in thinking about what I should and shouldn't say in this situation. _I don’t need to make enemies here._ I can’t afford it.

With that in mind, I casually take a bite out of the sandwich.

“Human!”

The food nearly trips down the wrong throat. I stiffen and Mr. Crowley looks over my shoulder at the small walking menace with another smile.

“Ah, I see that you’re finally awake. Grim, was it?” He asks in a pleasant conversational tone.

The patter of paws halts. “Gah! It’s you!”

“Grim, Mr. Crowley has brought us breakfast,” I say with a small fake smile, hoping that no quarreling will happen on the talking monster’s part.

My comment goes unnoticed, though. A flicker of the tail is the only warning before Grim has jumped on the table. "You! Where's the tuna you promised me?"

The color drains from my face. I look worriedly at Dire who doesn’t lose his composure even after such rude confrontation. “My, my, such an attitude you have. Of course, I didn’t forget – here.”

A calming breath leaves through my nose when he throws a small can at Grim. The monster’s ears perk up and he catches it with those small paws without an effort before tearing through the metal. He has nails and sharp enough teeth for that. My patched hand feels like it is opening again and stings.

“Miss Miller and I have been discussing the terms of your stay here – both of yours,” Mr. Crowley says over the munching sounds coming from the small creature.

“Hm?”

“You’ll be required to earn your keep. Miss Miller has agreed for you two to be handymen for the school.”

_Why is he throwing this at me!?_

I brace myself again. Grim looks so content eating what he was denied yesterday and… from what I’ve seen from his temper and behavior, the thought of him cleaning the place sends alarm signs. Snobbish people wouldn’t even think of handing over a rag to someone.

As expected, accusing eyes turn to me sharply. “A _handyman_? Who says I’d agree to that?” His question is edged, voice shrill from rising temper.

I clench my hands nervously, shooting a look at the smiling man before trying to explain the situation. “Grim, you – the other option for you is to leave.”

Mr. Crowley nods. Encouraged by my words. “Neither of you is a student here, so of course this the perfect solution! Unless you’d prefer being thrown out.”

The small creature cringes at the options being thrown at him. His ears flatten. The reaction is more than enough of an answer to what his choice will be. It’s strange – he’s so fierce and quick to act, but the threat of not being able to be here shuts him up in a second.

“As for your question, Miss Miller.”

I look back at those yellow eyes and immediately take on a similar expression to Grim’s. I’m starting to hate how that saccharine smile is directed at me. His golden claws are crossed, tinkling against one another like small bells.

“I apologize for overlooking your knowledge of this world – “

For ignoring that I don’t have magic, he means. That I don’t even know what the name of this country we are in is called. If it even has a name. I would like to ask, but then I would just want to let out more questions. I would also merely sound ignorant, which I am.

“Be ensured that I understand and shall _personally_ look through the extended collection of our library to find a way for you to return to your home.”

_How long will that take?_

“For now, let’s take a day at the time. Starting with your first task as a handyman.”

…

_It’s okay._

The old comb that has been gathering dust is smooth once it’s washed off the dust layers. It pulls on my dark brown locks and the surface of my eyes begin to sting. The comb clatters to the ground when my shaking hand loses its grip, so I’ve to crouch down to pick it up. This is already the second time I’ve dropped it.

_You’re okay._

When I rise up, the reflection that greets me is still the same as when I woke up. A shaken young woman who reaches out to hold a vial of dark purple liquid. When I peer closer, it seems almost like light pink swirls move in it. 

A knock on the door makes me jump.

“Miss Miller, have you taken the potion yet?” Mr. Crowley asks from the other side of the wooden door.

It feels weird to have a headmaster inside _my_ room. More so because there is only a thin wall separating him from the bathroom I’m using.

I look down at myself. The ceremonial garb is gone, and I feel lighter, but not less nervous. The dark greyish overall is unzipped and my sleeveless top peaks out. If it gets hot while working, I can always drop the upper part to my waist and still have something to wear.

The outfit Dire found for me – literally made appear out of thin air – has one thing that will make me stand out …

I’ve never been more self-conscious of my chest. I’m a girl, but… that won’t work here. The vial feels hot for some reason and I glance back down at it. My heart is in my throat.

“I’m taking it now,” I finally answer and roll the cork off. A strange smell hits my nose. I can’t describe it in any other words other than ‘bitter’.

“Hurry it up in there!” Grim yells impatiently.

I bite my lower lip, holding in a sharp reply. The vial is not touching my lips, but nothing seems to come out. I’ve to tip the small thing further and close my eyes. The liquid bubbles like lemonade out of a vending machine, but the nerves on my tongue go numb. I panic and swallow the entire thing in one gulp, face screwing from the repulsing strange taste that spreads.

Immediately, I clutch my throat and let the vial drop carelessly into the sink. I can feel how the liquid slides down and turns from cool to almost scalding hot. Cold sweat drips down my back and for a moment I think that the birdman has offered me poison. I can’t breathe and even if I could scream no noise comes out. _Don’t be afraid, don’t panic, it’s okay._ I choke, the noise sounds scratchy to my ears.

“The potion has a _small_ side effect of sore throat, but it will stop soon,” Mr. Crowley comments, apparently hearing the desperate scrambling of nails clawing the sink.

I turn towards the door, outraged. This is by no means a 'small side effect' when it feels like boiling water is being poured down. He could’ve told me that in the first place, is what I want to scream, but halt when the burning sensation starts to fade.

Tentatively, I clear my throat and look up. Now that I can use my mouth again I gasp and cover it. 

It's my face and at the same time, it is someone else’s. To my eyes it’s a blur – my jaw is a borderline between soft and angular, the cheeks are both round and soft, but a transparent trace of sunken shape and sharper lines make it hard to tell. It's like when you photoshop a stranger's face and make it fader before attaching it to your own picture. It becomes difficult to tell where the lines of your face are and what parts are someone else's

Out of reflex, I touch my face all over, but to my surprise, it still feels like mine even when my hands seem bigger in the mirror and my shoulders have broadened.

My first taste of magic…

I frown and lap off the aftertaste.

_Magic tastes like bitter medicine._

The door opens and I step out, staring numbly ahead and then turn to Mr. Crowley. For a moment, his eyes seem to glow, and I stiffen, but then that strange sight is gone. I glance back at the mirror, but sadly the disorientation around me has not faded.

The bird-like man nods, satisfied. “This way the students won’t ever find out of your gender.”

“She seems the same to me, though,” Grim comments and unknowingly makes me sweat bullets.

I touch my face again, worried. “Did it not work?”

“No, I assure you it worked,” Mr. Crowley waves dismissingly. “The potion has only effect on those who have not seen your _true_ appearance. I can detect the traces of it around you, though, so you won’t need to worry. This means that Grim here will need to keep quiet about this secret."

I jolt, face turning a few shades paler. _Those who have seen my true appearance…_ The horn guy hadn’t given me his word to keep quiet. The thought of him just walking down the hall, seeing me and… _don’t think about it!_

“I don’t understand what all the fuss is about, though,” the monster says and looks unimpressed. "Couldn't she just go out there as she is? You, humans, are so picky on your looks."

“I-it isn’t about that,” I say and look self-consciously down at the ground, the reality creeping and settling in. I’m sweating like a sinner in church. “I’m a girl in a place where there are only boys.”

"So?" He tilts his head like there's a math problem that has only been made more complicated with an explanation.

For a moment, I’m extremely jealous of his oblivious nature. I shudder at the mere thought of walking out there as a girl. Being the only one here is… making me feel lonely. Like there has been a supporting wall next to me my whole life, but now it’s gone.

My hands clench and I can't find the energy to snap at Grim. If he doesn't understand such simple principles, it's useless to explain. Although, why would a monster even think of such things?

“All you need to understand is that Miss Miller’s situation is difficult, and we all need to hush up about it,” Dire says, emphasizing his point by putting his index finger in front of his mouth. His eyes narrow down into tiny marbles. “Unless you wish to face eviction?”

“Fngah!” The cat-like creature jumps, ears reaching towards the ceiling.

The conversation would be amusing, if I wasn’t so anxious about today and if this spell is the only answer.

“Does this potion… stop working at some point?” I ask carefully and then think for a second more. “And are there side effects I should know about _this_ time?”

The thought of just turning back to normal – to my _girl_ appearance – sends a violent shudder down my spine. I’m sure it’s noticeable, but none of the two bring it up. The worst-case scenario would be that this potion starts to burn my skin or cause my lungs to swell me when I least expect it.

“Ah, yes,” the cloaked man says it like he forgot to add something to a grocery list. “It does have the limit of working only twelve hours, so you’ll have to take it again after that time has passed. But no worries, since your work can be finished by then. I'm not about to let a magicless young girl work herself to the bone with the risk of getting disoriented and occasional fainting spells.”

_What?_

My eyebrows rise up to the point I can feel them touching the hairline. “I can _faint_?”

Not the worst of the worst-case scenario I imagined, but no less frightening. 

“If there’s an overuse, but that’s the case with a lot of potions of this nature,” he shrugs and then starts walking towards the door like nothing he said sounded wrong.

I look back down at my hands, now horrified at what I’ve gotten myself into. The dusty room is a small confinement box and the walls are closing in. _Disoriented?_ I guess I will find out what that feels like in the future… I just hope not too soon.

“Oi, you comin’ or what?” Grim asks from the door.

There is no other choice for me, but to just swallow and move my stiff limbs.

…

I never would have thought that a day would come when I miss home chores. The sun is not unbearably hot, but that’s not why I’m sweating nor why my head keeps on hanging low. Whether or not my hair is as long as it normally is under the illusion, the cap I’ve been offered makes sure to keep it from blocking my face.

This entire time I've waited for someone to see through the potion – magic, disguise, whatever – but the only thing I've gotten is a few looks.

“I’m not going to ask you to do the impossible,” is what Dire said. “All you need to do today is clean up Main Street to the main gate all the way back to the library. Simple!"

 _Simple,_ I want to scoff, but keep the broom moving and eyes on the pavement. Even while feeling a pair of curious eyes turning to look at me, the work doesn’t stop. The quicker I get to finish this, the quicker I can go and hide somewhere…

“Why do I need to do this?”

Or I would get this done quickly if there wasn't _certain_ somebody whining constantly.

“Why do I need to repeat myself?” I ask back, but not raising my voice so that the students passing by can hear me. I lean down, the broom constantly moving at the same rhythm as the hands of a clock. “You have been threatened to be thrown out more than once by the headmaster. What does it take to get through that thick skull of yours?”

Blue eyes narrow. “I want to go to classes and do magic! Like the kind where everything goes ‘boom’, not here _cleaning_.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Hm? Did ya say something?”

I shake my head, sweeping another layer of dust to the side. “Nothing.”

Besides doing work around here, the headmaster had another thing to add to our unofficial contract. “Make sure to keep an eye on Grim.”

The monster can’t cause havoc, nor can I start yelling at him in irritation because he’s being impossible. Who knows what he’ll light on fire from merely just being looked at the wrong way. I’ve been silently calling him a ‘cat’, but I might as well switch back to ‘rat’. He’s getting under my skin like one, scares me like one and most of all has some features that made me think he was one yesterday.

 _Just behave._ The mantra is the only thing keeping my mind in the task and not on the thought of my apartment and a warm cup of tea. _Do as you’re told, and you’ll be fine._

“If you want to learn magic, there should be books about that in the library,” I say easily, voice pleasantly calm. “But only if we can finish this.”

Grim makes a displeased sound. “I don’t know how I like the sound of reading.”

“That’s also what you probably would do in classes… if you were a student.”

Luckily, he doesn’t press the issue and only makes another displeased noise. Mentally, I feel happy, even though I don’t show it. This reminds me of times when I need to give grumpy customers a good enough answer. If I have that same mentality here as I do back in my world, this day should go by easily.

The thought makes me drown out the sight of students wearing black uniforms out and continue the work in peace. I don’t look up at them and they don’t come up to me – simple and silent agreement. Over time, I cease sweating as profoundly and am not glancing around as nervously as before. If I can even ignore the humongous school building – the castle – then this would all become a normal way to earn my keep. Much like how people go to work to pay their own houses. _Yes, this is alright, that’s normal._

Although, there’s nothing normal with the way my face has become more masculine and a small talking animal is sweeping the ground with me with a small rag.

The said monster has to break the tranquility of my mind when he speaks up again. "I didn't really get to look around here much yesterday, but…"

A bit startled and worried about what he wants now, I have to lift up my head. His back is turned, but his gaze focuses on the seven statues surrounding the pavement road.

My stomach drops. I was hoping that I could get this done while ignoring them. The statues of the villains from my childhood make me almost scoff out loud. _What’s this place? Some twisted version of Disney?_

“What’s up with these statues?” Grim unknowingly voices both of our silent questions. “They all look pretty scary. Especially this lady – she looks especially snobby.”

He points at the statue of a large woman, dressed in a huge dress with a high collar. My throat tightens – _the Queen of Hearts_.

“You don’t know about the Queen of Hearts?”

Both of us jump in surprise and turn around to see a young boy with peculiar bright orange hair staring at us with his bright red eyes. On the corner of his left one, a weird and equally red colored heart is decorating his skin. It could be some kind of fashion statement, but the rest of his outfit is a normal black uniform I’ve seen all day, safe for the red stone shining from his breast pocket and a red band around his left arm.

Compared to Mr. Crowley and Mr. Horn though, he is the most normal out of the two of them. Maybe that’s why his sudden appearance and an easygoing expression don’t make me take a few steps back.

Grim looks at him with intrigue. “The Queen of Hearts? Is she important?”

The boy’s smile widens, and he takes a step forward to stand next to him. “Long ago she was the queen who ruled and lived in Rose Maze.”

An image of a large garden filled with thousands of roses pops up. A small hedgehog rolls by from being hit by a flamingo’s head. I look up at the statue and the snobby smile the woman wears, and the large stone roses settled next to her feet. Her staff holds a single heart shape at the end.

The other statues show people and creatures standing just as proudly. My mind swims, thinking of the boy’s words and the way he phrased them. _These people… are really here?_

“She valued rules and discipline above anything else. She was strict in all manner of things, such as marching of Card Soldiers and the color of roses in her gardens.”

As the boy speaks, I go back to cleaning. He doesn’t pay any attention to me, which I’m glad of. Grim is also behaving, listening carefully what he says, ears twitching at the sound of his voice. It’s a relief for me, at least he isn’t complaining what a drag all of this is.

I’m about to change the broom for a mop but freeze from realizing that I forgot to bring one from the cleaning closet. Immediately, an idea of taking Grim with me comes to mind, but then it shrinks when he continues listening to the student speak. _He said he wanted to study here… I guess this is as close as he can get._

“Grim,” I call out, wondering for a moment if my voice is the same or if it changed from the potion. He turns his eyes to me. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll fetch the brooms, so stay here.”

Without waiting for his response or seeing the boy look towards me, I turn around and start walking, briskly.

Nothing will happen if leave them for a few minutes. The boy seems decent enough.


End file.
